


The Last Mohican Sagamore

by thereisaredeemer



Series: Unamis...Chingachgook...Uncas.... [1]
Category: The Last of the Mohicans - James Fenimore Cooper
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Finished but less polished on FanFiction.Net, Native American/First Nations Culture, Wilderness, follows the book
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisaredeemer/pseuds/thereisaredeemer
Summary: Uncas is the only son of the last Mohican sagamore, and he is expected to find a wife in the vilages of the Delawares. But instead he falls in love with the daughter of the English colonel, Cora Monro. His love for her will drive him to follow her mile after mile, and day after day, without food or rest. But will his journey be in vain? Based on the book by Cooper.
Relationships: Cora Munro/Uncas, Duncan Heyward/Alice Munro
Series: Unamis...Chingachgook...Uncas.... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050656
Kudos: 2





	1. Pale Faces

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of a 25 chapter story. While the story is complete I will not be updating as often as I could like. This version (I have this story on FFN under the same name) will be the most edited as I am seeing new mistakes as I copy and past and reformat. Any help with finding those errors is greatly appreciated by me.   
> I have absolutely no experience on this particular site so if I bumble through it forgive me. (At this moment I have absolutely no idea wether this note will have to do for the whole story or whether I can create one for every chapter.) Also, the name is Monro not Munro but I figured it would be best to go with the prompted spelling.  
> Disclaimer: I have copied the dialogue from J.F. Cooper's work. This continues throughout this entire fic, if I add diologue, I will say so in my A/N at the beginning.  
> •••••  
> Bold is English, regular is Delaware, italics are, in this chapter, flashbacks.

"...and when Uncas follows in my footsteps, there will no longer be any of the blood of the Sagamores," at the sound of my name, I paused in the undergrowth, "for my boy is the last of the Mohicans."

"Uncas is here! who speaks to Uncas?"

I slipped between my father and friend and seated myself on the bank of the rapid stream. No exclamation of surprise escaped my father, nor was any question asked me for several minutes. In the peaceful lull, I allowed my mind to wander back to the trail I had followed during morning.

* * *

_Swiftly I follow the indistinct trail created by a careless Mingo warrior in the course of the last night, but I stop dead when my eyes catch on an irregularity in the leaves; the print of a horse's iron shoe. Carefully I brush fallen leaves and twigs from the near vicinity of the print, and a clear trail is revealed in the dirt. I study it in confusion; five horses had passed through only a few hours since; four had worn the white-man's iron shoe. If that was not strange enough, two of the four animals moved with a gait I had only ever seen belonging to a bear; the third left tracks like that of an elk, but the fourth...the fourth I could not make out._

_I widened my search and to my greatest surprise, found the print of a moccasin. 'Hugh! What fools were these, who traveled the woods infested by Maquas? Led no less by an Indian. Was the warrior who wore the patched moccasin mad?'_

_I turn away and continue on the trail of the Maqua brave. But as the Great Spirit would decree, I would come across the same trail thrice more before I found the Maqua's camp. Again I wondered what fool the white-men followed. From my position high in the ancient oak tree, whose limbs encompassed several rods, I watch the group pass beneath me. A white-man dressed in the scarlet of the Englishman's Great Father leads upon a mighty black beast; behind him lopes a smaller beast of the color of a smooth creek-stone, on his back rides a maiden; immediately after came a brightly adorned man riding a grayish mare and at his side trotted a foal. Slightly behind and to the left glided an Indian brave. I strain my eyes to see his paints, but to no avail. He passes._

_Then the last member of the company rides beneath me, a woman with flowing dark hair. She handles her steed well and her eyes rove the forest around her. My eyes follow after her with interest, for she is the woman who spoke to me two days before at Fort Edward. Silently I drop down to the ground as a tree begins to obscure my view of the Dark-hair. To my astonishment she stiffens and turns in her saddle looking directly at me, slowly she raises her hand in a salute before turning again. I stare at the place from which the Dark-hair disappeared till a drifting leaf grazes my shoulder._

* * *

At length my father turns to me, and demands,–

"Do the Maquas dare to leave the prints of their moccasins in these woods?"

I push my reminisces away; "I have been on their trail," I reply, "and know that they number as many as the fingers of my two hands; but they lie hid, like cowards."

"The thieves are out-lying for scalps and plunder!" Hawkeye exclaimed. "That bushy Frenchman, Montcalm, will send his spies into our very camp, but he will know what road we travel!"

"'Tis enough!" returned Chingachgook glancing his eye towards the setting sun; "They shall be driven like deer from their bushes. Hawkeye, let us eat tonight, and show the Maquas that we are men tomorrow."

"I am as ready to do the one as the other; but to fight the Iroquois 'tis necessary to find the skulkers; and to eat, it is necessary to get the game – talk at the devil and he will come; there is a pair of the biggest antlers I have seen this season, moving the bushes below the hill! Now, Uncas," he continued and a half whisper, and laughing with a kind of inward sound, like one who had learned to be watchful, "I will bet my charger three times full of powder against a foot of wampum, that I take him atwixt the eyes, and nearer to the right then to the left."

"It cannot be!" I said, springing to my feet with eagerness; "all but the tips of his horns are hid!"

"He's a boy!" Said Hawkeye to my father, shaking his head while he spoke. "Does he think when a Hunter sees a part of the creatur', he can't tell where the rest of him should be!" He adjusted his rifle, about to make an exhibition of that skill, on which he so much valued himself, when I struck up the piece with my hand, exclaiming–

"Hawkeye! will you fight the Maquas?"

"These Indians know the nature of the woods, as it might be by instinct!" Returned the scout, dropping his rifle, and turning away like a man who was convinced of his error. "I must leave the buck to your arrow, Uncas, or we may kill a deer for them thieves, the Iroquois to eat."

The instant my father seconded this invitation by an expressive gesture of the hand, I threw myself on the ground, and approached the animal with wary movements. When within a few yards of the cover, I fitted in an arrow to my bow with utmost care. In another moment I heard the twang of the cord, and saw a white streak glancing into the bushes. The wounded buck plunged from the cover to my very feet. Avoiding the horns of the infuriated animal, I darted to his side, and plunged my knife across the throat, it bounded to the edge of the river and fell, dyeing the waters with its blood.

"Hugh!" ejaculated Chingachgook, turning quickly, like a hound who scented game. At my father's exclamation I paused and half turned.

"By the Lord, there is a drove of them!" exclaimed Hawkeye; "if they come within range of a bullet I will drop one, though the whole Six Nations should be lurking within sound! What do you hear, Chinachgook? For to my ears the woods are dumb."

"There is but one deer, and he is dead," replied my father, bending his body till his ear nearly touched the earth. "I hear the sounds of feet!"

"Perhaps the wolves of driven the buck to shelter, and are following on his trail."

"No. The horses of what men are coming!" returned he, raising himself with dignity, and resuming his seat on the log with his former composure. "Hawkeye, they are your brothers, speak to them."

**"That will I, and in English that the king needn't be ashamed to answer,"** returned the hunter, speaking in the language of what he boasted; **"but I see nothing, nor do I heat the sounds of man or beast; it is strange that an Indian should understand white sounds better than a man who, his very enemies will own, has no cross in his blood, although he may have lived with the redskins long enough to be suspected! Ha! There goes something like the cracking of a dry stick, too– now I hear the bushes move– yes, yes, there is a trampling that I mistook for the falls – and-but here they come themselves! God keep them for the Iroquois!"**


	2. The Third Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the English dialogue in this chapter is from the book, some of the Delaware is as well.  
> Bold is English or another language that is not Delaware, regular is Delaware, and all italics other than these are Uncas' thoughts.

From the trees issued a horse and rider. The man was dressed in the garb of an English soldier and his face was young and honest. His steed was a mighty black beast—he was the man I had seen earlier.

 **"Who comes?"** Cried Hawkeye, throwing his rifle across his arm, **"Who comes hither, among the beasts and dangers of the wilderness?"**

The man reined in his horse and eyed us warily before answering, " **Believers in religion, and friends to the law and to the king. Men who have journeyed since the rising sun, in the shades of the forest, without nourishment, and are sadly tired of their wayfaring."**

" **You are, then, lost,"** Hawkeye interrupted before the man could continue, " **and have found how helpless 'tis not to know whether to take the right hand or the left?"**

**"Even so; sucking babes are not more dependent on those who guide them than we who are of larger growth, and who may now be said to possess the stature without the knowledge of me. Know you the distance to a post of the crown called William Henry?"**

**"Hoot!"** Laughed Hawkeye, though he instantly checked the noise and laughed in his usual manner: silent and shockingly heartfelt. **"You are as much off the scent as a hound would be, with Horizon twixt him and the deer! William Henry! Man if you are friends to the king, and have business with the army, your better way would be to follow the river down to Edward, and lay the matter before Webb; who tarries there, instead of pushing into the defiles, and driving this saucy Frenchman back across Champlain, into his den again."**

Before the man could make a reply, the man with the sky-blue coat and nankeen knee-breeches dashed aside the bushes and pulled up in front of Hawkeye.

" **What, then, may be our distance from Fort Edward?" Demanded he; "The place you advise us to seek we left this morning, and our destination is the head of the lake."**

 _I had been correct, then, in believing their guide a fool, but now I knew that they themselves were fools too._ In the full view of the strangers I did not allow myself to express my scorn, bu instead sat silently and attentively to all that passed; enjoying to the fullest extent Hawkeye's free conveyance of disdain.

 **"Then you must have lost your eyesight afore losing your way,"** exclaimed Hawkeye, echoing my own sentiments, **"for the road across the portage is cut to a good two rods, and is as grand a path, I calculate, as any that runs into London, or even before the palace of the king himself."**

 **"We will not dispute concerning the excellence of the passage,"** returned the soldier, smilingly. **"It is enough, for the present, that we trusted to an Indian guide to take us by a nearer, though blinder path, and that we are deceived in his knowledge. In plain words, we know not where we are."**

 **"An Indian lost in the woods!"** Hawkeye shook his head doubtingly; **"when the sun is scorching the tree-tops, and the water-courses are full; when the moss on every beech he sees, will tell him in which quarter the north star will shine at night! The woods are full of deer paths which run to the streams and licks, places well known to everybody; nor have the geese done their flight to the Canada waters altogether! 'Tis strange that an Indian should be lost atwixt Horican and the bend in the river. Is he a Mohawk?"**

I had not seen the man's paint from my hiding place, so I pricked up my ears to listen to the soldier's answer.

**"Not by birth, though adopted in that tribe; I think his birthplace was farther north, and he is one of those you call a Huron."**

"Hugh!" I exclaimed in unison with my father, who had continued, until now, seated immovable, and apparently indifferent to what passed. I sprang to my feet with an interest that had gotten the better of my reserve.

 **"A Huron!"** repeated Hawkeye, once more shaking his head in open distrust; **"they are a thievish race, nor do I care by whom they are adopted; you can never make anything of them but skulks and vagabonds. Since you trusted yourself to the care of one of that nation, I only wonder that you have not fallen in with more."**

**"Of that there is little danger, since William Henry is so many miles in our front. You forget that I have told you our guide is now a Mohawk, and that he serves with our forces as a friend."**

My eyes widened ever so slightly at the stubborn thickheadedness displayed by the white man. A Huron was a Huron no matter which tribe had adopted him; that he was adopted at all was a reason to doubt him, for that meant that his own tribe had driven him from their midst.

 **"And I tell you that he who is born a Mingo will die a Mingo,"** returned my friend, positively. **"A Mohawk! No, give me a Delaware or a Mohican for honesty; and when they will fight, which they won't all do, having suffered their cunning enemies, the Maquas, to make them women—but when they will fight at all, look to a Delaware, or a Mohican, for a warrior!"**

 **"Enough of this,"** cried the soldier impatiently; **"I wish not to inquire into the character of a man that I know, and to whom you must be a stranger. You have not yet answered my question: what is our distance from the main army at Edward?"**

The man's horse was restless and it danced in place, obviously aching to be on the move once more. He jerked at the reins, causing the animal to rear, and then sent the beast around in a tight circle and sat calmly on its back as it paused for breath **.**

 **"It seems that may depend on who is your guide. One would think such a horse as that might get over a good deal of ground atwixt sun-up and sun-down."** Hawkeye returned sarcastically.

 **"I wish no contention of idle words with you, friend,"** said the man, curbing his dissatisfied manner, and speaking in a more gentle voice; **"if you will tell me the distance to Fort Edward, and conduct me thither, your labor shall not go without its reward."**

 _The man is proud and conceited if he thinks that money will buy our help, though, I know for a certainty that he is no spy. The women I had seen at Edward and I had heard their destination from a friend._ But as I saw no reason to tell Hawkeye of it, I let him continue the conversation on his own. As the youngest and least experienced in my party, I learned by watching and listening, not by asking questions or arguing. I sometimes knew more of a certain subject than Hawkeye or Chingachgook, but unless I was asked specifically for my opinion I did not interject. It was simply not how I was raised to act.

**"And in so doing, how know I that I don't guide an enemy, and a spy of Montcalm, to the works of the army? It is not every man who can speak the English tongue that is an honest subject."**

**"If you serve with the troops, of whom I judge you to be a scout, you should know of such a regiment of the king as the 60th."**

**"The 60th! You can tell me little of the Royal Americans that I don't know, though I do wear a hunting-shirt instead of a scarlet jacket."**

**"Well, then, among the other things, you may know the name of its major?"**

**"Its major!** **"** interrupted Hawkeye, elevating his body like one who was proud of his trust. **"If there is a man in the country who knows Major Effingham, he stands before you."**

The young man on the restless horse spoke then in a condescending tone as he once more whirled his horse around. If I had had charge of the beast, it would have stood patiently till I gave it leave to move, but he man seemed not to understand his steed's mind, though his seat was impeccable.

**"It is a corps which has many majors; the gentleman you name is the senior, but I speak of the junior of them all; he who commands the companies in garrison at William Henry."**

**"Yes, yes, I have heard that a young gentleman of vast riches, from one of the provinces far south, has got the place. He is over young, too, to hold such rank, and to be put above men whose heads are beginning to bleach; and yet they say he is a soldier in his knowledge, and a gallant gentleman!"**

**"Whatever he may be, or however he may be qualified for his rank,"** the man exclaimed in exasperation, **"he now speaks to you, and of course can be no enemy to dread."**

The scout regarded him in surprise, and then lifting his cap, he answered, in a tone less confident than before, though still doubting,—

**"I have heard a party was to leave the encampment this morning, for the lake shore."**

**"You have heard the truth; but I preferred a nearer route, trusting to the knowledge of the Indian I mentioned."** He said, finally brining his mount under control.

**"And he deceived you, and then deserted?"**

**"Neither, as I believe; certainly not the latter, for he is to be found in the rear."**

**"I should like to look at the creatur'; if it is a true Iroquois I can tell him by his knavish look, and by his paint,"** said Hawkeye, stepping past the sweating horse, and entering the path behind the mare of the other, whose foal had taken advantage of the halt to nurse. While Hawkeye was absent I stood unmovingly on the bank of the Hudson with the carcass of the buck at my feet, studying the grain of the dead beast's fur. It was much like a horse's, only coarser and longer. The sorrel colored fur cowlicked up on his forehead and the large antlers were fully grown. Within a few weeks he would have been shedding them and in their places' would have been only stubs.

The white men did not speak and the only sounds to be heard were the roar of the cataract in the distance, the swift flow of the river close by, the heavy breathing of the major's horse, and the steady, rhythmic slurp as the foal nursed at its mother's udder. I raised my head slowly when Hawkeye returned and asked with a look what his verdict was.

 **"A Mingo is a Mingo, and God having made him so, neither the Mohawks nor any other tribe can alter him,"** he said in answer to me, though he directed his attention at the major, when he had regained his former position. **"If we were alone, and you would leave that noble horse at the mercy of the wolves tonight, I could show you the way to Edward, myself, within an hour, for it lies only about an hour's journey hence; but with such ladies in your company 'tis impossible!"**

**"And why? They are fatigued, but they are quite equal to a ride of a few more miles."**

**"'Tis a natural impossibility!"** repeated the scout, stubbornly; **"I wouldn't walk a mile in these woods after night gets into them, in company with that runner, for the best rifle in the colonies. They are full of outlying Iroquois, and your mongrel** ** _Mohawk_** **knows where to find them too well, to be my companion."**

" **Think you so?"** Said the major, leaning forward in the saddle, and dropping his voice nearly to a whisper **;** **"I confess I have not been without my own suspicions, though I have endeavored to conceal them, and affected a confidence I have not always felt, on account of my companions. It was because I suspected him that I would follow no longer; making him, as you see, follow me."**

I turned my head away to hide my amusement. _The man first insists that his guide is loyal, then he admits to distrusting him!_ My father gave me a flicker of a stern look and I once more schooled my expression into indifference.

 **"I knew he was one of the cheats as soon as I laid eyes on him!"** returned the scout, placing a finger on his nose, in sign of caution. **"The thief is leaning against the foot of the sugar sapling, that you can see over them bushes; his right leg is in a line with the bark of the tree, and,"** tapping his rifle suggestively, **"I can take him from where I stand, between the ankle and the knee, with a single shot, putting an end to his tramping through the woods, for at least a month to come. If I should go back to him, the cunning varmint would suspect something, and be dodging through the trees like a frightened deer."**

**"It will not do. He may be innocent, and I dislike the act. Though, if I felt confident of his treachery—"**

**"'Tis a safe thing to calculate on the knavery of an Iroquois,"** assured Hawkeye, throwing his rifle forward, with a sort of instinctive movement.

 **"Hold!"** interrupted the man, **"it will not do—we must think of some other scheme; and yet, I have much reason to believe the rascal has deceived me."**

Hawkeye, who, I knew, had already abandoned his intention of maiming the runner, mused a moment, and then gestured to Chingachgook and I to come.

"The Huron stands at the base of that sapling," he said, pointing out the tree with is finger. "If you come upon him from behind, while he is occupied, you may apprehend him and disarm him quickly."

Chingachgook nodded and turned to me, "Do not kill him unless it is necessary," he commanded. Then he laid aside his rifle, and buried himself in the thicket, with such cautious movements, that his steps were inaudible. I followed suit and, taking the opposite side of the deer-path which wended through the small clearing, I slipped into the cooling woods. The sun had already disappeared from view, and the woods, suddenly deprived of light, were assuming a dusky hue. Through this dim light I walked, till I could see the forms of the women and that of the English major and the Huron. Then I stopped and listened.

 **"You may see, Magua,"** the major was saying, **"that the night is closing around us, and yet we are no nearer to William Henry than when we left the encampment of Webb with the rising sun. You have missed the way, nor have I been more fortunate. But, happily we have fallen in with a hunter, he whom you hear talking to the singer, that is acquainted with the deer-paths and by-ways of the woods, and who promises to lead us to a place where we may rest securely till the morning."**

 **"Is he alone?"** Queried the runner.

**"Alone! O, not alone, surely, Magua, for you know that we are with him."**

**"Then Le Renard Subtil will go,"** returned the runner; **"and the pale-faces will see none but their own color."**

**"Go! Whom call you Le Renard?"**

**"'Tis the name his Canada fathers have given to Magua,"** the Huron explained. **"Night is the same as day to Le Subtil, when Munro waits for him."**

**"And what account will Le Renard give the chief of William Henry concerning his daughters? Will he dare to tell the hot-blooded Scotsman that his children are left without a guide, though Magua promised to be one?"**

**"Though the gray head has a loud voice, and a long arm, Le Renard will not hear him, or feel him, in the woods."**

**"But what will the Mohawks say? They will make him petticoats, and bid him stay in the wigwam with the women, for he is no longer to be trusted with the business of a man."**

**"Le Subtil knows the path to the great lakes, and he can find the bones of his fathers."**

**"Enough, Magua, are we not friends? Why should there be bitter words between us? Munro has promised you a gift for your services when performed, and I shall be your debtor for another. Rest your weary limbs, then, and open your wallet to eat. We have a few moments to spare; let us not waste them in talk like wrangling women. When the ladies are refreshed we will proceed."**

**"…pale-faces…dogs to their women,"** muttered the Indian, in his native language, of which only a little I understood, **"…want to eat, their warriors must lay aside the tomahawk…laziness."**

 **"What say you, Renard?"** Asked The Major.

**"Le Subtil says it is good."**

I took a step and saw too late the rabbit poised to run.

 **"This is well,"** continued the pale-face; **"and Le Renard will have strength and sight to find the path in the morning;"** he paused as I froze, the rabbit leapt, the leaves rustled and a twig snapped. Internally I cursed myself for my unawareness. The man continued,— **"we must be moving before the sun is seen, or Montcalm may lie in our path, and shut us out from the fortress."**

From my cover I watched as Magua's hand dropped from his mouth to his side, and though his eyes were fastened on the ground, his head was turned aside, his nostrils expanded. He had heard the rabbit. I coiled myself to spring, as Magua cautiously raised himself to his feet, though with a motion so slow and guarded, that I heard not the slightest noise. If my father could not see him from his cover, he would not know the change in circumstance.

Then to my utmost surprise the white man threw his leg over the saddle, dismounted, and advanced on Magua, still with a false air of friendship.

 **"Le Renard Subtil does not eat,"** he said. **"His corn is not well parched, and it seems dry. Let me examine; perhaps something may be found among my own provisions that will help his appetite."**

Magua held out the wallet the man before him. He even suffered their hands to meet, without betraying the least emotion, or varying his riveted attitude of attention. Then, of a sudden he struck up the limb of the young man, and uttering a piercing cry as he darted beneath it, plunged into the bushes. At the next instant, as I leapt after him, I saw Chingachgook appear from out the thicket and glide across the deer-path in swift pursuit.

As I ran I kept my eyes trained ever on the back of my quarry. I was but a yard away, and still gaining on him when the woods were lighted by a sudden flash that was accompanied by the sharp, familiar report of Hawkeye's rifle, I stumbled as I drew up short. The bullet flew by my face and barked Magua's shoulder.

Then he was gone.

I did not follow after, though it would have taken but a few minutes to once more find his trail. There were too many Hurons in the woods for me to justify a chase. I turned back and met Hawkeye holding his rifle with distaste.

"You nearly killed me!" I exclaimed as I came level with his shoulder. He turned and frowned at me for a moment. His eyes traveled up and down my person as though searching for an injury, then he said,—

"You have become like your father, Uncas, 'tis impossible to make you out when you run. I tell you I did not see you! But it is as it should be, I am growing older, though my eyes have yet to fail entirely—are you certain…" he trailed off and he finished, "You are uninjured, and lucky too, for it would have been a pity had I maimed you for a season."

My father joined us then and I let the subject drop. I was unharmed, and the Mingo was on his way to his brothers. The only trouble would come when he found them, then though, we would be safely hidden in the harboring place up river.

When we were about a hundred yards from the horses, we met the major come looking for us.

 **"Why so soon disheartened!"** he exclaimed as he came within speaking range; **"the scoundrel must be concealed behind some of these trees, and may yet be secured. We are not safe while he goes at large."**

 **"Would you set a cloud to chase the wind?"** returned the disappointed Hawkeye; **"I heard the imp, brushing over the dry leaves, like a black snake, and blinking a glimpse of him, just over ag'in yon big pine, I pulled as it might be on the scent; but 'twouldn't do! And yet for a reasoning aim, if anybody but myself had touched the trigger, I should call it a quick sight; and I may be accounted to have experience in these matters, and one who ought to know. Look at this sumach; its leaves are red, though everybody knows the fruit is in the yellow blossom, in the month of July!"**

**"'Tis the blood of Le Subtil! he is hurt, and may yet fall!"**

**"No, no,"** returned the scout, in decided disapprobation of his opinion, **"I rubbed the bark off a limb, perhaps, but the creature leaped the longer for it. A rifle-bullet acts on a running animal, when it barks him, much the same as one of your spurs on a horse; that is, it quickens motion, and puts life into the flesh, instead of taking it away. But when it cuts the ragged hole, after a bound or two, there is, commonly, a stagnation of further leaping, be it Indian or be it deer!"**

**"We are four able bodies, to one wounded man!"**

**"Is life grievous to you?"** interrupted the scout, in a voice I had often wished to use against so many fool Englishmen. **"Yonder red devils would draw you within swing of the tomahawks of his comrades, before you were heated in the chase. It was an unthoughtful act in a man who has so often slept with the war-whoop ringing in the air, to let off his piece within sound of an ambushment! But then it was a natural temptation!"** Hawkeye murmured as if to himself, **"'Twas very natural!"** Then he spoke aloud to none and all, **"Come, friends, let us move our station, and in such a fashion, too, as will throw the cunning of a Mingo on a wrong scent, or our scalps will be drying in the wind in front of Montcalm's marquee, ag'in this hour tomorrow."**

As I glided beside my father I looked upward to the thin fleecy clouds, which evening had painted on the blue sky; they were already losing their faint tints of rosy color, while the river, which flowed past, was to be traced only by the dark boundary of its deeply wooded banks. The woods, my home, were falling into that short period where all was silence in preparation for the time when all nocturnal creatures, including the outlying Maquas, would walk. Only the river and the loud, incautious footfalls of The Major could be heard in the silence. As we walked, I made a decision. I would not allow this party of pale-faced fools to be at their mercy. If the group had been composed only of men, I would not have felt so great an inclination to secure the safety of their party. But the folly of the men could not be blamed upon the women, and of all of them only the major was armed. They were defenseless, and in the darkness, blind—not that they were very much better in the broad daylight.

"The pale-faces are defenseless, and in the darkness, blind—not that they were very much better in the broad daylight, but they should not be left to fend against the Mingoes in the night." I declared softly.

Hawkeye turned on me with a strange look, "And what would you have us do, Uncas? Stay with the fools and give ourselves up the the scoundrels on a gold gilt platter to be scalped at their pleasure? 'Tis an impossibility!"

"The folly of the men can hardly be blamed upon their women, and of all of them only the major is armed! Would you have their deaths upon your shoulders?"

"You can hardly put that upon me! Chingachgook, aid me!" He snorted in exasperation, turning to my father.

Chingackgook glanced up,first at the sky then at Hawkeye's face. "Hawkeye," he started, "the harboring place is but a short way up the river, it would be little trouble to bring them along with us."

"You too?" Hawkeye grumbled, "We would, in all probability, lead the Hurons there with them if we allowed the Englishmen to follow. Can neither of ye see reason?"

 **"What is to be done? Desert me not, for God's sake! Remain to defend those I escort, and freely name your own reward!"** The major begged us, but ignored his outburst and continued to debate the subject.

"If the group was composed only of men, I would not argue the point, Hawkeye. But it is you who must see reason, for it would not be the act of a warrior to leave such defenseless things to the fate of the death which you would sentence them to, though it did break up the harboring place! We can find a new hide-away, they have but the speed of their steeds to protect them."

Hawkeye's expression changed as I spoke, softening with understanding. He nodded suddenly and with a wave of the hand, conceded the argument. In English, and to no one in particular, he **declared,** **"Uncas is right, it would not be the act of men to leave such harmless things to their fate, even though it breaks up the harboring place forever. If you would save these tender blossoms from the fangs of the worst of serpents, gentleman, you have neither time to lose nor resolution to throw away!"**

 **"How can such a wish be doubted! have I not already offered—"** the white man cried in open astonishment.

 **"Offer your prayers to Him who can give us wisdom to circumvent the cunning of the devils who fill these woods,"** interrupted Hawkeye, raising a hand to stop his outburst, **"but spare your offers of money, which neither you may live to realize, nor I to profit by. These Mohicans and I will do what man's thoughts can invent, to keep such flowers, which, though so sweet, were never made for the wilderness, from harm, and that without hope of any other recompense but such as God always gives to upright dealings. First, you must promise two things, both in your own name and for your friends, or without serving you, we shall only injure ourselves!"**

**"Name them."**

**"The one is, to be still as these sleeping woods, let what will happen; and the other is, to keep the place where we shall take you, forever a secret from all mortal men."**

**"I will do my utmost to see both these conditions fulfilled."**

**"Then follow, for we are losing moments that are as precious as the heart's blood to a stricken deer!"**

When we joined the women, the major briefly acquainted them with the conditions Hawkeye had laid before him. After an exclamation of horror from the younger and a sharp reprimand from the elder, they permitted him to assist them from their saddles. I then retrieved the rifles and the dead buck from the clearing and within a few minutes all were assembled by the water's edge. Without seeming to recognize the proximity of my white companions, I studied the water as it glinted mutedly in the deep dusky light. My mind was on the journey ahead and on the necessity of silence and speed.

I heard the tail end of one of Hawkeye's monologues as I turn away from the water—

**"…eed to run down their chase. Ay, ay, that will blind their fire-balls of eyes! Chingach—Hist? what stirs the bush?"**

**"The colt."**

**"That colt, at least, must die,"** muttered the scout, grasping for the mane of the nimble beast, which easily eluded his hand; **"Uncas, your arrows!"**

I pulled the bow from where it had hung on my back, and nocked an arrow, but I did not shoot. A horse was a beautiful creature though it was not native to this land and I hated to injure one so young.

 **"Hold!"** exclaimed the tall, gangling owner of the condemned animal, loudly and without regard to the low voices used by the rest of us; " **spare the foal of Miriam, it is the comely offspring of a faithful dam, and would willingly injure naught."**

 **"When men struggle for the single life God has given them,"** rebuked Hawkeye sternly with a lowering brow, " **even their own kind seem no more than the beasts of the wood. If you speak again, I shall leave you to the mercy of the Maquas! Draw to your arrow's head, Uncas; we have no time for second blows."**

I obeyed without a flicker of the distaste I had for the task visible on my face. The arrow cut its way deep into the heart of the foal and as the beast reared on its hind legs, I turned away. If it had been my own call I would have done the same. A horse was not a human being. Replacing my weapon and taking the bridles of the two women's horses, I left the two others to my father. Then I led the beasts into the water.

The cold caused goosebumps to rise up my legs, and a shiver ran down my neck, but I did not falter as I waded in the knee deep shallows. The two horses followed reluctantly, but they did not question my authority. So I led them till at length I reached a point in the river where the high bank threw a deeper shadow than usual on the dark waters. Here I stoped and, removing the saddles from their backs and hanging them on a sturdy overhanging limb, I tied the beasts in place so they would not wander in the night.

The darkest one, the one with the pale mane, nuzzled my face and shoulder and even licked my neck. There seemed naught that I could do, but step out of her reach. I did so, and after pulling on my knots for a time, she was content to ignore me. Then I came back to her and rubbed her powerful neck and the place between her ears. As I was thus occupied my father appeared with The Major's charger and the other man's mare and when he had tied them, we returned to the group, who by then had taken to the water in the canoe.

For many minutes we waited on the sheltered bank in the ever growing darkness. A slight July breeze ruffled the tree tops. Then through the shadows I saw Hawkeye riding the swift current. With in seconds he had beached the bark and with out a word my father and I entered the craft, taking with us the venison. Hawkeye placed his pole against a rock and a powerful shove, sent the frail bark directly into the centre of the turbulent stream. I grasped a paddle and with swift, sure strokes helped propel us up stream. Within a few minutes we were at the foot of the Glenns.

 **"We are now fortified, garrisoned, and provisioned,** **"** cried the major, as we came into the small eddy at the foot of a large, flat **rock,** **"and may set Montcalm and his allies at defiance. How, now, my vigilant sentinel, can you see anything of those you call the Iroquois, on the mainland?"**

 **"I call them Iroquois, because to me every native, who speaks a foreign tongue, is accounted an enemy, though he may pretend to serve the king!"** Hawkeye shouted above the roar of the falls, **"** **If Webb wants faith and honesty in an Indian, let him bring out the tribes of the Delawares, and send these greedy and lying Mohawks and Oneidas, with their six nations of varlets, where in nature they belong, among the French!"**

**"We should then exchange a warlike for a useless friend! I have heard that the Delawares have laid aside the hatchet, and are content to be called women!"**

**"Ay, shame on the Hollanders and Iroquois, who circumvented them by their deviltries, into such a treaty! But I have known them for twenty years, and I call him liar, that says cowardly blood runs in the veins of a Delaware. You have driven their tribes from the sea-shore, and would now believe what their enemies say, that you may sleep at night upon an easy pillow. No, no; to me, every Indian who speaks a foreign tongue is an Iroquois, whether the castle of his tribe be in Canada, or be in New York."**

I stepped from the canoe to the rock and waited, holding the craft steady, for Hawkeye and my father to disembark. Then, I hauled it up and hid it in a small cranny in the slippery rock.

**"Treaty or no treaty, I know full well, that your two companions are brave and cautious warriors! have they heard or seen anything of our enemies?"**

**"An Indian is a mortal to be felt afore he is seen,"** called Hawkeye, ascending the rock, and throwing the buck, which he had removed from the canoe, carelessly down. **"I trust to other signs than such as come in at the eye, when I am outlying on the trail of the Mingos."**

**"Do your ears tell you that they have traced our retreat?"**

I calmly made my way up the slippery rock, till I was even with my companions, then I handed my mentor certain necessary implements that would be used in the preparing of the venison. He took them gratefully and, giving me a pat on the shoulder, answered the white man's last question.

**"I should be sorry to think they had, though this is a spot that stout courage might hold for a smart skrimmage. I will not deny, however, but the horses cowered when I passed them, as though they scented the wolves; and a wolf is a beast that is apt to hover about an Indian ambushment, craving the offals of the deer the savages kill."**

**"You forget the buck at your feet! or, may we not owe their visit to the dead colt? Ha! what noise is that?"**

I pricked up my ears at the man's sudden question, but the only thing out of the ordinary that my ears caught was very extraordinary indeed—though no sign of danger.

The voice of the man whose colt I had killed rose up suddenly above the crashing of the turbulent water and he sang.

**"First born of Egypt, smite did He,**

**Of mankind, and of beast also;**

**O, Egypt, wonders sent 'midst thee,**

**On Pharaoh and his servants too!"**

**"The death of the colt sits heavy on the heart of its owner,"** Hawkeye muttered near my ear; **"but it's a good sign to see a man account upon his dumb friends. He has the religion of the matter, in believing what is to happen will happen; and with such a consolation, it won't be long afore he submits to the rationality of killing a four-footed beast, to save the lives of human men. It may be as you say,"** he continued, in a louder voice to the major; **"and the greater the reason why we should cut our steaks, and let the carcass drive down the stream, or we shall have the pack howling along the cliffs, begrudging every mouthful we swallow. Besides, though the Delaware tongue is the same as a book to the Iroquois, the cunning varlets are quick enough at understanding the reason of a wolf's howl."**

Then, together, we climbed the last few paces to the entrance of the cave and were suddenly in the pitch darkness. The damp smell soon brought back memories of times long past and I stood for a moment only a little ways into the interior, just breathing in the smells before calling to Hawkeye to make a light.

"Yes, yes; in a moment, boy," he called.

I saw the sparks as he stuck flint and steel together and then a flame spouted up.

"There," he murmured as he added a few pine knots to the little blaze.

Chingachgook came up behind me and murmured, "Split us some wood, son," then smiling suddenly added, "The deer will not roast itself, nor skin its own hide."

"No, nor the sassafras arrange themselves, or the the mice flee before a shadow!" I answered and with my own smile I began gathering the wood that was piled in a corner and coming to the entrance of the place so as to make the best of the light, I drew out my tomahawk, which at times like this doubled as an axe, and began splitting wood.


	3. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regular lettering is is in the Delaware language, bold is English. Please inform me of any and all typos, I want this fic to be a tribute to J.F. Cooper.  
> The song that they sing is, "O God, our help in ages past" written by Isaac Watts and arranged (I think that is the right word) by William Croft.  
> So, next chapter. I changed one word of the dialogue, JFC wrote, "Now Major Heyward speaks as Major Heyward should," said Cora; "who, that looks at this creature of nature, remembers the shade of his skin!" I never understood his use of the word 'should' so I have changed it to 'would', and added in some conversation between Uncas and the girls.  
> I do wish they could have kissed in the book, but back then, that would have been scandalous. Technically I could write it. Maybe I will...(that's an idea!)...but not here. This is a cannon-ish fic...

The fire danced brightly with the shadows that it flung merrily upon the cold stone of the cave's walls and the roar of the falls muted my hearing significantly, but this place would always be a place of peace and content to me. At a little distance in advance of my companions I stood, my whole person thrown purposefully into the view of the travelers, as I split firewood. They, I knew, were wary of me as well as of my companions because of the natural distrust between our races. The dark eyed woman, only of their party, seemed to see me as I was, a man and a warrior.

Over the noise of the cataract I hear them speaking softly.

**"This, certainly, is a rare and brilliant instance of those natural qualities, in which these peculiar people are said to excel,"** the major answered, aloud, **"I agree with you, Alice, in thinking that such a front and eye were formed rather to intimidate than to deceive; but let us not practice a deception upon ourselves, by expecting any other exhibition of what we esteem virtue than according to the fashion of a savage. As bright examples of great qualities are but too uncommon among Christians, so are they singular and solitary with the Indians; though, for the honor of our common nature, neither are incapable of producing them. Let us then hope that this Mohican may not disappoint our wishes, but prove, what his looks assert him to be, a brave and constant friend."**

**"Now Major Heyward speaks as Major Heyward would,"** said the Dark-hair; **"who, that looks at this creature of nature, remembers the shade of his skin!"**

A short silence followed this remark, but it was interrupted by Hawkeye calling to them to enter.

**"This fire begins to show too bright a flame,"** he continued, as they complied, **"and might light the Mingos to our undoing. Uncas, drop the blanket, and show the knaves its dark side. This is not such a supper as a major of the Royal Americans has a right to expect, but I've known stout detachments of the corps glad to eat their venison raw, and without a relish too. Here, you see, we have plenty of salt, and can make a quick broil. There's fresh sassafras boughs for the ladies to sit on, which may not be as proud as their my-hog-guinea chairs, but which sends up a sweeter flavor than the skin of any hog can do, be it of Guinea, or be it of any other land. Come, friend, don't be mournful for the colt; 'twas an innocent thing, and had not seen much hardship. Its death will save the creature many a sore back and weary foot!"**

I did as I was asked, and when the voice of Hawkeye ceased, the roar of the cataract sounded like the rumbling of distant thunder.

**"Are we quite safe in this cavern?"** demanded the Major. **"Is there no danger of surprise? A single armed man, at its entrance, would hold us at his mercy."**

My father glided from the darkest recesses of the cave, and seizing a blazing brand, held it towards the farthest extremity of our place of refuge. Chingachgook, who, lifting a blanket, displayed the caverns two outlets. Then, still grasping the torch, he crossed a deep, narrow chasm in the rocks, which ran at right angles with the passage we were in, but which, unlike that, was open to the sky, and entered another cave.

**"Such old foxes as Chingachgook and myself are not often caught in a burrow with one hole,"** laughed Hawkeye; **"you can easily see the cunning of the place—the rock is black limestone, which everybody knows is soft; it makes no uncomfortable pillow, where brush and pine wood is scarce; well, the fall was once a few yards below us, and I dare to say was, in its time, as regular and as handsome a sheet of water as any along the Hudson. But old age is a great injury to good looks, as these sweet young ladies have yet to learn! The place is sadly changed! These rocks are full of cracks, and in some places they are softer than at othersome, and the water has worked out deep hollows for itself, until it has fallen back, ay, some hundred feet, breaking here and wearing there, until the falls have neither shape nor consistency."**

**"In what part of..."** With practiced ease, I tuned out the pale-faces discourse and turned my attention to assisting Hawkeye with the preparation of the venison.

* * *

I acted as an attendant to the females, performing all the little offices within my power, with a mixture of dignity and anxious grace. I went against every custom which forbid a warrior to descend to any menial employment, especially in favor of a woman, but what cared I? The rites of hospitality were considered sacred among my people, though usually a woman served the women.

I knew that, while it was for hospitality that I tendered to the Light-hair the gourd of sweet water and the venison in a trencher, it was not so when, I performed the same offices to her sister. My eye lingered on her rich, speaking countenance and when I was compelled to speak, it was to her that I directed my questions.

I was silently chewing my own repast when the Light-hair spoke, **"Why do you wear the beaded bracelet upon your wrist?"**

The question was so strange that I turned to gaze at her in astonishment.

**"Alice!"** Her sister reprimanded, and the young girl blushed and looked down.

But I answered the question; **"It was my mother's."**

The dark eyed one glanced up at me and her eyes caught mine. Within them I found the understanding that I had unknowingly sought for so long. She looked down at her lap and her hand reached up to touch a white stone that hung around her neck. I realized something then; she had lost her own mother.

* * *

**"...Let us hear what you can do in that way; 'twill be a friendly manner of saying good-night, for 'tis time that these ladies should be getting strength for a hard and a long push, in the pride of the morning, afore the Maquas are stirring!"**

The conversation I had missed seemed to me of no great importance, and I had enjoyed my slight discourse with _Cora._ It was a strange name for a strange woman. My ears caught, and my mind translated the words of brightly dressed and oddly proportioned man.

**"With joyful pleasure do I consent,"** and producing a book which he then handed to the Light-hair he continued; **"What can be more fitting and consolatory, than to offer up evening praise, after a day of such exceeding jeopardy!"**

A few moments past as the girl turned the pages. I glanced at her sister, she was smiling as she leaned over the younger girl's shoulder. Another page flipped, and the Dark-hair's face lit up. She touched the page with a slender finger and the light-eyed one looked up at her, then said aloud, **"O God, our help, page 32."**

The man nodded and the Major smiled.

**"O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home!**

**"Under the..."**

The song was soft and sweet in my ears, and the words, while strange, calmed me. I found to my surprise that I enjoyed this far more that the war-whoop. I closed my eyes and let the simple beauty of the voices surround me.

**"...shadow of Thy throne Thy saints have dwelt secure; sufficient is Thine arm alone, and our defense is sure.**

**"Before the hills in order stood, or earth received her frame, from everlasting Thou art God, to endless years the same.**

**"A thousand ages in Thy sight are like an evening gone; short as the watch that ends the night before the rising sun.**

**"Time, like an ever rolling stream, bears all its sons away;—"**

The notes had just fallen to their lowest tone, when, a cry that seemed neither human nor earthly, rose in the outward air, penetrating the recesses of the cavern. It was followed by a deep and heavy stillness that all seemed anxious to break, but were afraid of speaking.

**"What is it?"** The major asked aloud.

Neither Hawkeye nor I or my father had any answer to give him. We listened, as if expecting the sound would be repeated. But it did not. Then Hawkeye turned to us and asked; "Chingachgook, you know these woods better even than I, can you give a name to this cry?"

"It is no wild animal's howl, not does it belong to a man."

"Is it then a cry of the spirits, Sagamore?"

"I know not."

Then Hawkeye glanced to me; "Have you any notion, Uncas, of what that could have been?"

"No, but let me look to see if any light shines through the blankets." I glanced at my father for permission.

"Go." He gave me a meaningful look.

I stood and immediately made my way out of the place. But though I searched and strained my eyes, no glimmer of light could I find that betrayed out secret. In defeat I returned to my companions.

**"...once hear the war-whoop, you will never mistake it for anything else!** Well, Uncas!" speaking in Delaware to me as I reentered, "what see you? do our lights shine through the blankets?"

"No." My answer was short and it conveyed all my discomfiture at the idea that there was something or someone in the woods that neither I nor either my father or his adopted brother had ever encountered.

**"There is nothing to be seen without,"** Hawkeye informed the white group, shaking his head in discontent; **"and our hiding-place is still in darkness! Pass into the other cave, you that need it, and seek for sleep; we must be afoot long before the sun, and make the most of our time to get to Edward, while the Mingos are taking their morning nap."**

The dark eyed one rose from her place silently and beckoned her sister to follow. I raised the blanket for their passage, and as the sisters turned, the dark eyed one cast a small smile to me. A thank you for all I and my party had done.


	4. Battle at the Glenns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I should probably give a definition for this word as I will use it so often. A rod is 5 and 1/2 yards, it is a historical British word.  
> Because of the way I have portrayed Uncas disliking and looking down upon Duncan Heyward, The Major, or The Open Hand, in the other chapters (the coming ones) I have decided to cut out a scene in which the two of them become friends. It happens in the book so I wanted to tell you it happens, but because I skipped over so much in the beginning (when I was writing) I totally forgot about it and so it doesn't fit in the story. Duncan isn't that much of a jerk at all. Here is the second missing chapter.  
> I hope you enjoy.

A moment later the major followed, taking with him a blazing knot of pine wood from the fire.

I returned to my place by the fire and lay myself out to sleep. My head was pillowed on my arm and my back was to the fire. Memories from bygone days rose up to the forefront of my mind. Then, as my eyes were closing, the same cry rent the air.

I leapt to my feet and stared about me. My father had not been affected even half as much, but he too had risen to his feet. He now looked from side to side as though he could pierce the rock walls and see out into the dark night. Hawkeye, also, had risen to his feet, and he now shook his head. My father gave him a significant look, and he nodded his affirmation. We would not sleep tonight.

The singer's reaction though was quite unconventional. He had left up and turned round declaring in a clear voice, **"I am ready to go forth to the battle."**

Hawkeye laughed and approached the blanket that separated the 'rooms' and raised it. His voice was soft, too soft for me to catch his exact words, but I knew what news he was relaying. The next words spoken were quite audible as the group came into the one in which I stood.

 **"Is then our danger so pressing?"** Asked the Dark-hair.

 **"He who makes strange sounds, and gives them out for man's information, alone knows our danger. I should think myself wicked, unto rebellion against his will, was I to burrow with such warnings in the air! Even the weak soul who passes his days in singing, is stirred by the cry, and, as he says, is 'ready to go forth to the battle.' If 'twere only a battle, it would be a thing understood by us all, and easily managed; but I have heard that when such shrieks are atween heaven and 'arth, it betokens another sort of warfare!"** Hawkeye returned.

 **"If all our reasons for fear, my friend, are confined to such as proceed from supernatural causes, we have but little occasion to be alarmed,"** continued the undisturbed woman; **"are you certain that our enemies have not invented some new and ingenious method to strike us with terror, that their conquest may become more easy?"**

 **"Lady,"** Hawkeye returned solemnly, **"I have listened to all the sounds of the woods for thirty years, as a man will listen, whose life and death depend on the quickness of his ears. There is no whine of the panther, no whistle of the catbird, nor any invention of the devilish Mingos, that can cheat me! I have heard the forest moan like mortal men in their affliction; often, and again, have I listened to the wind playing its music in the branches of the girdled trees; and I have heard the lightning cracking in the air, like the snapping of blazing brush, as it spitted forth sparks and forked flames; but never have I thought that I heard more than the pleasure of Him who sported with the things of his hand. But neither the Mohicans, nor I, who am a white man without a cross, can explain the cry just heard. We, therefore, believe it a sign given for our good."**

 **"It is extraordinary!"** said the major, retrieving his pistols from the place where he had laid them earlier; **"be it a sign of peace or a signal of war, it must be looked to. Lead the way, my friend; I follow."**

I led the group on light, eager feet, for I loved the night air and the cold spray from the falls on my neck. The evening breeze swept along the surface of the roiling river, and seemed to drive the roar of the falls into the recesses of their own caverns, whence it issued heavily and constant, like thunder rumbling beyond the distant hills. The moon had risen, and it shone brightly down. The water reflected the soft light and it was, even in this time of confusion and uncertainty, a thing of beauty to me. I loved the water, the moon, the wind, and the cool night air.

Over the roar of the fans I strained to hear any other noise, but all was as it should be—all was still.

 **"There is nothing to be seen but the gloom and quiet of a lovely evening,"** whispered the major to one of his female companions, **"how much should we prize such a scene, and all this breathing solitude, at any other moment, Cora! Fancy yourselves in security and what now, perhaps, increases your terror, may be made conducive to enjoyment—"**

 **"Listen!"** interrupted the younger.

But I had already heard. The scream echoed along the cliffs and was carried with the wind from what seemed to be a near location. In the open air it sounded different, louder, sharper, clearer.

 **"Can any here give a name to such a cry?** " demanded Hawkeye, in a tone I had never heard him use before when the last echo was lost; **"if so, let him speak; for myself, I judge it not to belong to 'arth!"**

 **"Here, then, is one who can undeceive you,"** said the major, laughing; **"I know the sound full well, for often have I heard it on the field of battle, and in situations which are frequent in a soldier's life. 'Tis the horrid shriek that a horse will give in his agony; oftener drawn from him in pain, though sometimes in terror. My charger is either a prey to the beasts of the forest, or he sees his danger, without the power to avoid it. The sound might deceive me in the cavern, but in the open air I know it too well to be wrong."**

"Hugh!" was all I could say, so say it I did.

 **"I cannot deny your words,"** Hawkeye granted; **"for I am little skilled in horses, though born where they abound. The wolves must be hovering above their heads on the bank, and the timorsome creatures are calling on man for help, in the best manner they are able.** Uncas,"—he turned to me—"Uncas, drop down in the canoe, and whirl a brand among the pack; or fear may do what the wolves can't get at to perform, and leave us without horses in the morning, when we shall have so much need to journey swiftly!"

I obeyed, slipping down the slimy wet rocks. As I was in the act of laying my hands on the canoe, the howl of a wolf rose above the sounds of the water and retreated into the woods away from the river. I turned and fled up the rocks. What a wolf fled from was not something I wished to encounter without necessity.

I had no wish to come across a band of Maquas in the dark, armed only with my long-knife and tomahawk. Only a few moments were needed to ascertain that both my father and Hawkeye were of the same mind.

 **"We have been like hunters who have lost the points of the heavens, and from whom the sun has been hid for days,"** said Hawkeye, to the pale-faces; **"now we begin again to know the signs of our course, and the paths are cleared from briers! Seat yourselves in the shade which the moon throws from yonder beech—'tis thicker than that of the pines—and let us wait for that which the Lord may choose to send next. Let all your conversation be in whispers; though it would be better, and perhaps, in the end, wiser, if each one held discourse with his own thoughts, for a time."**

While Hawkeye spoke, I hid myself in such a position as to be able to see both the near bank and the far shore on the river. The major and his companions then retired into the cave. But within a few minutes the major returned and posted himself near the cave entrance. The singer contrived in some way to find a place in which, in the moonlight, he was very well hidden from sight. In this manner, lying on the cold wet stone, never shifting position, feeling the damp seeping into my bones, I passed much of the night. The moon reached its zenith, and lit the rocks below the falls. The Major rose from his place and entered the cave, he did not return and I could but guess that he had joined the singer in slumber. But though the white men weakened and their women slept, I and my father and my friend neither tired nor slumbered. We watched till the moon had set and a pale streak above the treetops announced the dawning day.

Then I stirred.

I raised my head.

I twitched my muscles.

I felt the pain as my blood once more began to circulate through my arms and feet. I crawled to the place where the canoe was hid. As I was removing it from its place I heard the first howl. I quickly slithered away, leaving the canoe to whatever fate it would have. The yells and cries rent the early air, and as I took my place by my father with my rifle I cursed myself inwardly for not having hidden the horses better.

Then the singer stood, suddenly awaked and with hands his ears, he shouted above the noises—

**"Whence comes this discord! Has hell broke loose, that man should utter sounds like these!"**

I turned my head to him for an instant. The booming reports of a dozen rifles and the rolling echo announced his fall, and the bullets showered the place he had been standing. With my father I raised my voice, giving vent to all my pent up emotions and hereditary hate of the Huron warriors.

I puled the trigger, the flint sparked, the rifle kicked my shoulder. All around me echoed the reports of the Hurons' weapons mingled with the sharp explosions from my own party. A moment later all was silence. In that pause we retreated into the first cave with the unconscious body of the singer.

 **"The poor fellow has saved his scalp,"** said Hawkeye, coolly passing his hand over the man's head; **"but he is a proof that a man may be born with too long a tongue! 'Twas downright madness to show six feet of flesh and blood, on a naked rock, to the raging savages. I only wonder he has escaped with life."**

 **"Is he not dead!"** demanded the Dark-hair, in a husky voice, which betrayed her natural horror of death. **"Can we do aught to assist the wretched man?"**

 **"No, no! the life is in his heart yet, and after he has slept awhile he will come to himself, and be a wiser man for it, till the hour of his real time shall come,"** returned Hawkeye offhandedly as he filled his charger. **"Carry him in, Uncas, and lay him on the sassafras. The longer his nap lasts the better it will be for him, as I doubt whether he can find a proper cover for such a shape on these rocks; and singing won't do any good with the Iroquois."**

I crouched down and lifted the thin man up. He was light, in my opinion, too light for a man of his hight. I carried him into the inner cave and lay him on the branches. Then I returned, standing in the opening between the rooms.

 **"** **You hear our probable fortunes, Cora,"** the Englishman was saying to the Dark-hair, **"and you know we have everything to hope from the anxiety and experience of your father. Come, then, with Alice, into this cavern, where you, at least, will be safe from the murderous rifles of our enemies and where you may bestow a care suited to your gentle natures on our unfortunate comrade."**

He then brushed past me, and the women, after sharing a look, followed him. As she passed, the Light-hair shrank away from me with slight and almost controlled fear, but her elder passed me slowly, trustingly, and glanced up at my face with a look as undecipherable as the Frenchers' language. Fear was unknown to her, it seemed to me. Her pride and her faith held her fast. For her sister she was strong. When she was gone I approached my father and settled myself down beside him. In the quiet of the roaring falls I loaded my gun under the critical eye of my friend and mentor, Hawkeye. Purposefully I added more powder than was necessary. Fun was hard to come by, and my definition of fun was Hawkeye's lectures…that and swimming.

 **"I tell you, Uncas,"** said Hawkeye, as he saw my charger full, **"you are wasteful of your powder, and the kick of the rifle disconcerts your aim! Little powder, light lead, and a long arm, seldom fail of bringing the death screech from a Mingo! At least, such has been my experience with the creatur's. Come, friends; let us to our covers, for no man can tell when or where a Maqua will strike his blow."**

I found a niche in the black limestone and pressed in to the cold stone. Minutes passed.

A single, wild, despairing shriek rose on the air, and all was hushed again. I raised my head as a Huron whisked over the falls and fell never to rise again. I turned my sharp gaze on the four human heads peering above a few logs that had lodged in the rocks. Grudgingly I admired the pluck of the men who would attempt such a scheme.

From Hawkeye's hideaway a long, shrill whistle reached my ear. I returned it calmly and crawled to my friend's side.

"Stay by me for the rush."

"Of course."

Then he commenced to lecture me and the man on his other side, **"Of all we'pons the long-barreled, true-grooved, soft-metaled rifle is the most dangerous in skillful hands, though it wants a strong arm, a quick eye, and great judgment in charging, to put forth all its beauties. The gunsmiths can have but little insight into their trade, when they make their fowling-pieces and short horsemen's—"**

"Hugh!" I hissed.

 **"I see them, boy, I see them!"** Hawkeye muttered; **"they are gathering for the rush, or they would keep their dingy backs below the logs.** Well, let them," he added to himself, examining his flint; **"the leading man certainly comes on to his death, though it should be Montcalm himself!"** Of a sudden a loud whoop exploded from the woods and the four men behind the logs leapt up. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to spring. They were but a few rods away then Hawkeye shot. The man who led the charge bounded like a stricken deer, and fell headlong on the dark stone.

 **"Now, Uncas!"** cried the scout, drawing his long knife, while his quick eyes began to flash with ardor, **"take the last of the screeching imps; of the other two we are sartain!"**

I leapt up, drawing my long-knife and leading the charge. The spray from the cold water splattered my face and the wind from the falls whipped at my tunic. Behind me I heard the discharge of two pistols but I was upon my target. I raised my hand to stab the man, but he caught my arm and tried to jab his own into my stomach. My red-bronze, iron sinewed fingers clasped his wrist, staying his blade. His face contorted with fury; my expression betrayed no emotion, though my heart beat rapidly with adrenaline. For a time we stayed there, locked together, neither giving ground. Then the arm holding mine collapsed and my silver blade was plunged into his heart. I twisted my wrist and then threw his body from me.

I turned to view my companions; Hawkeye wrestled with his antagonist, slowly gaining the upper hand; the major grappled on the edge of the precipice against a Huron that, I could see was intent on taking him over the falls. I loped over to his assistance, and slashed my bloody knife across the Mingo's wrists. Then I shoved him over the cliff and drew the white man to safety.

A yell came from the men in the woods and it filled the air with their anger.

 **"To cover! to cover!"** cried Hawkeye, who just then had despatched his man; **"to cover, for your lives; the work is but half ended!"**

Muskets flashed and roared, spattering lead around me and my associates. A single shot was returned by my father. I gave a shout of triumph, and single responsive cry from Chingachgook answered me. Then followed by the major, I glided up the rock to where my father waited. Among the bushes we settled down and the rifles rattled volleys and occasional, scattered shots.

 **"Let them burn their powder,"** muttered Hawkeye, while bullet after bullet whizzed by the place where he lay; **"there will be a fine gathering of lead when it is over, and I fancy the imps will tire of the sport, afore these old stones cry out for mercy!** Take ye that imp below the white line!" He whispered to me.

I shot, my rifle rebounded against my shoulder, the man screamed and fell to the earth.

**"Uncas, boy, you waste the kernels by overcharging: and a kicking rifle never carries a true bullet. I told you to take that loping miscreant under the line of white paint; now, if your bullet went a hair's breadth, it went two inches above it. The life lies low in a Mingo, and humanity teaches us to make a quick end of the sarpents."**

I smiled slightly at the rebuke, though I sometimes teased him in this manner in this instance the mistake was mine and it was unintentional. As I refilled my charger I was careful with the amounts.

 **"That bullet was better aimed than common!"** Exclaimed the white soldier.

I glanced at the bullet and frowned, then I studied the sky. _There…_

Hawkeye laid his hand on the shapeless metal, and shook his head, as he examined it, saying, **"Falling lead is never flattened; had it come from the clouds this might have happened!"**

I silently pointed my musket up toward a tall oak which grew on the right bank of the river, nearly opposite to our position. It leaned for out over the river, and among its topmost branches a man was secreted.

 **"These devils will scale heaven to circumvent us to our ruin,"** exclaimed Hawkeye; **"keep him in play, boy, until I can bring 'Killdeer' to bear, when we will try his metal on each side of the tree at once."**

When Hawkeye gave the word our rifles flashed, the leaves and the bark of the oak flew into the air, and were scattered by the wind, but the man answered the assault with a taunting laugh. Then he shot and the bullet sent Hawkeye's leather cap spinning into the air. Following an instant later the men from the bank sent a volley of lead which induced us to cower at the mercy of the Mingo in the tree.

 **"This must be looked to!"** Decided Hawkeye impatiently. **"Uncas, call up your father; we have need of all our we'pons to bring the cunning varmint from his roost.** "

I gave the hissing call and soon Chingachgook was seated with us. I pointed out the problem and he stared up in amazement and admiration. For several minutes we were pressed hard by the random aim of the man in the oak. But we waited, leaning against the cold rock, for him to make a mistake. Soon enough he did; as he leaned out to take aim he exposed his legs. As one, my father and I poured out the contents of our guns. The man sunk down a foot or so and Hawkeye seized the advantage.

The leaves shook and then, the rifle fell down into the rushing water of the river. Moment later the Huron swung down, hanging for dear life to a tree branch.

 **"Give him, in pity give him—the contents of another rifle!"** Begged the young man at my side. But neither I, nor my father, nor Hawkeye so much as even glanced up from our powder horns.

 **"Not a karnel!** " Insisted Hawkeye, and that was the end of the matter in my opinion; **"his death is certain, and we have no powder to spare, for Indian fights sometimes last for days; 'tis their scalps or ours!—and God, who made us, has put into our natures the craving to keep the skin on the head!"**

Natural impulses led my eyes up to the dangling man and it seemed that all watched, for, for the time no sound was heard but the rushing of the water and the rumbling of the falls. High above, the Huron swayed with the wind, and to my surprise, Hawkeye raised his fate grooved-rifle to his shoulder. But once more he lowered it. Again and again he swayed between prudence and mercy, till at last the man lost his grip, and flailing, fell.

A spurt of fire, a crack of a musket—the Huron relaxed with death, even before he hit the water.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

A single yell of anger burst from the woods.

Then silence.

 **"'Twas the last charge in my horn, and the last bullet in my pouch, and 'twas the act of a boy!"** Hawkeye berated himself; **"what mattered it whether he struck the rock living or dead: feeling would soon be over. Uncas, lad, go down to the canoe, and bring up the big horn; it is all the powder we have left, and we shall need it to the last grain, or I am ignorant of the Mingo nature."**

I stood and made my way down to where I had left the craft, unhidden and in the open, in the place I had left it last night.


	5. "Go to my father"

At a distance from the rock I could see the little bark floating across the eddy, towards the swift current of the river. A multitude of emotions bombarded me at once; anger, hopelessness, acceptance, sorrow. I wished I had the power to save _Cora_. I could not understand the instinct to protect her, or the willingness to lay down my life for her; but I accepted them. My fate now decided, I returned to my companions.

As I stood to one side I listened to Hawkeye's words to my father.

"Chingachgook my brother," he said, "we have fought our last battle together, and the Maquas will triumph in the death of the sage man of the Mohicans, and of the pale-face, whose eyes can make night as day, and level clouds to the mists of the springs!"

"Let the Mingo women go weep over their slain!" returned my father, with his characteristic pride and unmoved firmness; "the Great Snake of the Mohicans has coiled himself in their wigwams, and has poisoned their triumph with the wailings of children whose fathers have not returned! Eleven warriors lie hid from the graves of I their tribes since the snows have melted, and none will tell where to find them when the tongue of Chingachgook shall be silent! Let them draw the sharpest knife, and whirl the swiftest tomahawk, for their bitterest enemy is in their hands. Uncas, topmost branch of a noble trunk, call on the cowards to hasten or their hearts will soften, and they will change to women!"

"They look among the fishes for their dead!" I replied with a small smile; "the Hurons float with the slimy eels! They drop from the oaks like fruit that is ready to be eaten; and the Delawares laugh!"

**"Ay, ay,"** muttered Hawkeye, who had listened to my outburst with deep attention, to the other pale-faces; **"** **they have** **warmed** **their Indian feelings, and they'll soon provoke the Maquas to give them a speedy end. As for me, who am of the whole blood of the whites, it is befitting that I should die as becomes my color, with no words of scoffing in my mouth, and without bitterness at the heart!"**

**"Why die at all!"** the low tones of Cora arrested my attention, and my eyes found her face, **"** **the path is open on every side; fly, then, to the woods, and call on God for succor. Go, brave men, we owe you too much already; let us no longer involve you in our hapless fortunes!"**

**"You but little know the craft of the Iroquois, lady, if you judge they have left the path open to the woods!"** returned Hawkeye, who, however, immediately added, **"the down stream current, it is certain, might soon sweep us beyond the reach of their rifles or the sounds of their voices."**

**"Then try the river! Why linger to add to the number of the victims of our merciless enemies?"**

**"Why,"** he repeated, looking about him proudly, **"because it is better for a man to die at peace with himself than to live haunted by an evil conscience! What answer could we give Munro, when he asked us where and how we left his children?"**

I felt pride rise in my chest at those true words. I had been raised an honest man, and an honest man I would die.

**"Go to him, and say, that you left them with a message to hasten to their aid,"** returned Cora, advancing nigher to him; **"that the Hurons bear them into the northern wilds, but that by vigilance and speed they may yet be rescued; and if, after all, it should please heaven that his assistance come too late, bear to him,"** she continued, her voice gradually lowering, until it seemed nearly choked, **"the love, the blessings, the final prayers of his daughters, and bid him not mourn their early fate, but to look forward with humble confidence to the Christian's goal to meet his children."**

At her words every muscle in my body tensed; N _ever! She would not die! I would prevent it, though it would kill me_. I had been quiet and reserved till I met her; a slumbering panther living without purpose other than to revenge my people; but I was woken, she, the dark-haired, pale-faced woman, the eldest daughter of Munro, had woken me. I was a man, determined, wrathful, protective of the woman I loved. I would guard her while I lived; I would follow her till she left my wild domain; and then, I would remember her flashing eyes, her sharp tongue, her steady selflessness, until I followed my father's footsteps and the sun set for our people.

**"There is reason in her words!"** At length broke from Hawkeye's compressed and trembling lips; **"ay, and they bear the spirit of Christianity; what might be right and proper in a redskin, may be sinful in a man who has not even a cross in blood to plead for his ignorance.** Chingachgook! Uncas! hear you the talk of the dark-eyed woman!

"Her words are wise, wiser than that of many men who have fallen by a Mingo sarpent's hand. She sends us down the river to the fort with the task to bring up reinforcements. The river is no coward's escape if we use it to bring relief to our companions."

It might not be, but I would not leave her to her fate, whatever it might be.

After a moment of hesitation, my father waved his hand in assent, and uttered the word **"Good!"**

Then, replacing his knife and tomahawk in his girdle, he moved silently to the edge of the rock which was most concealed from the banks of the river. There he paused a moment, pointed significantly to the woods below, and saying; "I will wait by the tall pine," he dropped into the water, and sank from before my eyes.

Hawkeye delayed his departure to speak to the dark haired girl, whose breathing became lighter as she saw the success of her remonstrance.

**"Wisdom is sometimes given to the young, as well as to the old,"** he said; **"and what you have spoken is wise, not to call it by a better word."**

Then he dropped into the water and floated away on the current. All eyes were now turned on me as I stood leaning against the ragged rock, in immovable composure. After waiting a short time, Cora pointed down the river, and said:—

**"Your friends have not been seen, and are now, most probably, in safety; is it not time for you to** **follow?"**

**"Uncas will stay,"** I calmly answered in English.

**"To** **increase the horror of our capture, and to diminish the chances of our release! Go, generous young man,"** Cora continued, lowering her eyes under my stubborn gaze, **"to us you can be of no further service here, but your precious life may be saved for other and nearer friends."**

I made no reply. How could I to such a plea?

**"Consider,"** continued Cora, stepping nigher to me, and after a pause, during which she seemed to struggle with a pang even more acute than any that her fears had excited, she spoke again in a yet lower tone, **"that the worst to us can be but death; a tribute that all must pay at the good time of God's appointment."**

**"There are evils worse than death that a Huron could invent,"** I whispered hoarsely, to low for any other but her to hear above the thunder of the cataract, scenes flashing before my eyes of tortures I had seen inflicted by the Huron tribe, **"but which the presence of one who would die in your behalf may avert."**

She pressed her lips together tightly and lowered her head, **"Go to my father, as I have said, and be the most confidential of my messengers. Tell him to trust you with the means to buy the freedom of his daughters. Go! 'tis my wish, 'tis my prayer, that you will go!"** She raised her head, and her glassy eyes held her last desperate plea.

It broke me, that look. My heart sunk and an expression of gloom descended upon my face, and I did not try to stay it. With a noiseless step I crossed the rock, but I paused at the brink; **"If you are led into the woods, break the twigs on the bushes as you pass, and make the marks of your trail as broad as you can, when, if mortal eyes can see them, depend on having friends who will follow to the ends of the earth before they desert you."**

Then I stepped over the edge, letting myself plunge into the troubled stream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, all (with the exception of a few sentences) the dialogue is taken straight from the book. Though I did take the liberty of trading lines around and giving Uncas the words to express himself a bit more.


	6. The Hilltop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost all of the dialogue is taken directly from J.F. Cooper's work.

I had tracked the horses for three days and nights without sleep, but fatigue would not hamper my fighting powers. No man would I leave alive who had harassed the dark-eyed woman. I had accepted her death once, I would not make the same mistake twice. Only her lifeless corpse in my hands would convince me she no longer roamed the land of the living.

An unnatural sound struck my ear and I halted abruptly. The voices of the group I sought wafted through the trees on a soft breeze. With an exclamation of success I bounded forward, but before I had gone many yards, the rough hand of Hawkeye descend onto my shoulder and stayed my rash rush.

"It is a fool who enters a Mingo's camp weaponless, Uncas; I do not pretend understand your actions, but it will do no good to run headlong into a situation in which we have no control."

I recognized the truth of his words and restrained my eager feet. But when I stood still I again heard the voices; **"… what says the daughter of Munro? Her head is too good to find a pillow in the wigwam of Le Renard; will she like it better when it rolls about this hill as a plaything for the wolves? Her bosom cannot nurse the children of a Huron; she will see it spit upon by Indians!"**

Any other discourse was drowned out by the pounding my ears; my face contorted into some emotion too ugly to be described; my heart constricted in my chest; _How dare the Mingo speak of such things!_

Hawkeye shook me roughly; "What do your ears tell you Uncas, for mine catch only a low murmuring?"

Where I gathered the composure I answered with, I know not. "Le Renard," I spat the foul name out; "would insult the dark-eyed one. He would take a wife of the daughters of Munro."

Hawkeye stared at me a moment, then as full understanding dawned upon him he whispered hoarsely in his native tongue, " **God forbid that any man would dare, savage or no, to do such a thing to so good a creature."**

He no longer held me back, but instead ran with me towards the angularly shaped hill. We came upon the pile of our weapons but a rage filled scream fell upon my ears; **"Then die!"** and I forgot caution and raising my head above the cover of the thicket, I discerned the form of the Mingo leader, Magua, as he hurled his tomahawk at the younger of the two women as she stood lashed to a sapling. The horror of the sight immobilized me for an instant. Then I was running; leaping with Hawkeye toward the knot of Hurons at the center of the clearing; then as Killdeer cracked in my ear,—

**"La Longue Carabine!"** burst simultaneously from every lip, and was succeeded by a wild and plaintive howl.

I answered the cry with a loud shout as I sprang into the very midst of the rushing Hurons. An instant later I was joined by my father.

I hurled my tomahawk at an offending warrior and it cleft his skull in two.

I turned, like a hungry lion, to seek another adversary, but to my horror, I saw that which I would have died to prevent; the last Huron warrior held the perfect form belonging to the Dark-hair to her knees. In his hand he grasped her flowing black tresses, in the other he held his scalping knife to her moulded head. Fear fueled me on as I leapt toward her; fear lent me its strength as I hurtled through the air onto the chest of her attacker and threw the monster to the ground, many yards from her; and it was with fear and anger that I picked myself up off the dirt and set myself against the man of greater skill than I. But it was for love that I forgot my fatigue, my bruises, and my sore muscles, and for love that I bled and heeded it not. My opponent might have been a worthy one, but no man among the living could have lived who had experienced my wrathful attack. With a powerful thrust, I buried my blade in the Huron's heart. His eyes widened with shock and his body shuddered twice before he fell limp at my feet, dead. I wrenched my long knife from his bosom savagely, and with a longing glance towards the shaking Cora, I turned and loped to where my father and Le Renard twisted on the ground.

In vain did I search for an opening in which to sink my blade into the treacherous Mingo's breast, for the bodies of the two warriors were so entwined that I could as soon kill my father as I could Magua. And in vain did Hawkeye raise and re-raise Killdeer, for there was naught that we could do, but hope in Chingachgook's fabled skill. At length, as all such battles ended, my father's knife found its opportunity and the Huron lay still, relinquishing his grasp upon his weapon. Then Chingachgook leaped on his feet, making the arches of the forest ring with his cries of triumph. But I knew him well, he was weary; the sleepless march had taken its toll upon him.

**"Well done for the Delawares! Victory to the Mohican!"** cried Hawkeye, once more elevating the butt of his long and fatal rifle; **"a finishing blow from a man without a cross will never tell against his honor, nor rob him of his right to the scalp."**

But, at the very moment when the dangerous weapon was in the act of descending, the subtle Huron rolled swiftly from beneath the danger, over the edge of the hill, and falling on his feet, leapt, with a single bound, into the center of a thicket of low bushes, which clung along its sides.

**"'Twas like himself,** " cried Hawkeye in disgust; **"a lying and deceitful varlet as he is. An honest Delaware now, being fairly vanquished, would have lain still, and been knocked on the head, but these knavish Maquas cling to life like so many cats-o'-the-mountain. Let him go—let him go; 'tis but one man, and he without rifle or bow, many a long mile from his French comrades; and, like a rattler that has lost his fangs, he can do no further mischief, until such time as he, and we too, may leave the prints of our moccasins over a long reach of sandy plain.** See, Uncas," he added to me, in Delaware, "your father is flaying the scalps already. It may be well to go round and feel the vagabonds that are left, or we may have another of them loping through the woods, and screeching like a jay that has been winged."

So saying he made the rounds of the dead, into whose senseless chests he shoved his long knife, with as much coolness as though they had been so many brute carcasses. He had, however, been anticipated by Chingachgook, who had already torn the emblems of victory from the unresisting heads of the slain. But, ignoring him, I denied my habits, and flew, accompanied by the Major, to the assistance of the females. Quickly cutting the bonds of the Light-hair, I placed her in the arms of the still trembling _Cora_. A look of silent and unfathomable gratitude shone in her eyes and then she embraced her sobbing sister.

That glance of thanks was all I needed, and so I stood apart from the duo, watching, fresh and blood-stained from the combat, as a calm, and, to one who did not know me well, an unmoved looker-on, but with eyes that had already lost their fierceness and shoulders which had relaxed once more as though I had never been fighting for my life only minutes ago. I stubbornly ignored the blood slowly seeping from the shadow gash across my ribbs, and instead observed the tearful reunion; I would tend to myself at a later time.

**"We are saved! We are saved, to** **return to the arms of our dear, dear father, and his heart will not be broken with grief.** **"** The Light-hair murmured; " **And you too, Cora, my sister; my more than sister, my mother; you too are spared. And Duncan,"** she added, looking round upon the major, **"even our own brave and noble Duncan has escaped without a hurt."**

To these fervent and nearly incoherent words the Dark-hair made no other rejoinder than by straining the youthful speaker to her heart, as she looked up at me, in unabashed appreciation and respect.


	7. The Blockhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the dialogue is canon, the greatest divergence is that I have Uncas on watch instead of his father.

The sun had sunk low, dipping just above the distant mountains; and as our journey now lay through the forest, the heat was no longer oppressive. Out progress, in consequence, was proportionate; and long before the twilight gathered about us, we had made good many toilsome miles on our journey to the fort.Around me I noticed nothing unusual, but Hawkeye turned suddenly, and, pointing upwards towards the gorgeous heavens, he spoke,—

**"Yonder is the signal given to a man to seek his food and natural rest, better and wiser would it be, if he could understand the signs of nature, and take a lesson from the fowls of the air and the beasts of the fields! Our night, however, will soon be over; for, with the moon, we must be up and moving again. I remember to have fought the Maquas, hereaways, in the first war in which I ever drew blood from man; and we threw up a work of blocks, to keep the ravenous varmints from handling our scalps. If my marks do not fail me, we shall find the place a few rods farther to our left."**

I immediately swept my gaze around for his usual markers, and an instant later I found a buckskin throng draped over a high branch, held in place with an arrow. I smiled slightly, only a twitch of my lips but still a smile, it was rare to see a mark of his so old.

Hawkeye moved boldly into a dense thicket of young chestnuts, shoving aside the branches as though he expected to discover some object he had formerly known. After penetrating through the brush for a few hundred feet he entered an open space, that surrounded a low, green hillock, which was crowned by a decayed block-house. The roof of bark had long since collapsed, but the huge logs of pine, which had been thrown together, still preserved their relative positions, though one angle of the work had fallen, and threatened to soon bring the rest down as well.

With my father I strode into the shadows of the house, leaving the pale-faces to eat. I crouched and set my hand upon to old rotting wood, it was riddled with holes from a bygone battle and insects had made it their home for many years. On a closer inspection I saw beneath the moss a dark stain, old blood.

"Who died here?" I asked.

I glanced up at my father, "Silent Hawk my brother. He was injured but he insisted upon being one of the party who ventured out, I was with him when he died." His eyes glossed over as he relived the battle. "Many a Mohawk now lies beneath the soil for that deed."

I rose to my feet as I listened intently to his narrative.

"Few live, my son, who know this block-house was ever raised. I was then a young man and I went out against the Mohawks with my brothers. Silent Hawk, Cunning Beaver, Running Deer, and many of our people. Forty days and forty nights they craved our blood around this pile of logs. We lent ourselves to the fight, and we made it good, ten to twenty, until our numbers were nearly equal, and then we sallied out upon the dogs, and not a man of them ever got back to tell the fate of his party. But that sally cost us the lives of many of our people. My mother's sons are buried in the clearing there," his eyes involuntarily flicked to a small rise in the earth near where Hawkeye was kneeling; "and my cousins lie dead by the Hurons hands."

He fell silent and I closed my eyes, for a moment I could imagine that battle. The cramped quarters within the cabin, the smell of sweat and blood, the unique war whoops belonging to each man filling the air. **"...Uncas, clear out the spring, while your father and I make a cover for their tender heads of these chestnut shoots, and a bed of grass and leaves."**

The request brought my mind back to the present. I opened my eyes, a distraction from the events of this morning was welcome, though I would far rather explore this ruin. I stood and made my way to the leaf littered fountain. I soon had the spring cleared and a fount of crystal gushed from the bed, diffusing its waters over the knoll. The shadows around me were beginning to deepen perceptively and all around the forest was dropping into slumber or awakening to hunt. I looked around me, a corner of the block house had been roofed and piles of sweet shrubs and dried leaves were laid inside while I had worked. Chingachgook had picketed the horses and the sisters had laid down to sleep, even the Major and the singing master, were speaking of repose.

I seated myself calmly against a lone tree and nodded to my father to rest. His eyes softened and he immediately threw himself down upon the grass. Hawkeye followed his example after he had procured my promise that I would wake him at the first sign of trouble. Quiet descended upon the hill and peace settled in my soul. My hand rested easily upon my rifle. My ears dissected each sound into its parts, the mournful call of an night owl, a distant wolf's howl, chirping crickets.

So the hours past. I had volunteered for the watch as I knew my father needed the rest. Now I sit beside the dark forms of the sleepers, my gaze flicking from one shadow to another, my ears drinking in the music of the forest.

Late in the night, when I was certain that all were slumbering, I opened my clenched hand. In my palm lay a necklace, its pendent, a smooth bluish-white stone, circular in shape and about the size of an acorn. I turned it in my fingers it shone in the dark. It was beautiful like the moon, but the dark haired one with flashing eyes and a rich voice to whom it belonged; she was like the sun, and this moon like stone paled in comparison.

All paled in comparison to her.


	8. The Fort

I stood silently by as the pale-faces talked. I knew the risks of attempting to enter the fort after Montcalm had encircled it. There was little chance that we could lead this party to their destination without more bloodshed, our own as well as that of the enemy. I could easily make my was down alone, even with my companions, but with the major and his charges it would be impossible. Noise was not something to be trifled with in the wilderness, and noise was inevitable when one was leading strangers who had no experience with such circumstances.

**"See how that shot has made the stones fly from the side of the commandant's house!"** Exclaimed the scout directing my attention to the fort, **"Ay; these Frenchers will pull it to pieces faster than it was put together, solid and thick though it be."**

**"Heyward, I sicken at the sight of danger that I cannot share,"** whispered the dark eyed woman. **"Let us go to Montcalm, and demand admission: he dare not deny a child the boon."**

**"You would scarce find the tent of the Frenchman with the hair on your head,"** Hawkeye reminded her. **"If I had but one of the thousand boats which lie empty along that shore, it might be done. Ha! here will soon be an end of the firing, for yonder comes a fog that will turn day to night, and make an Indian arrow more dangerous than a moulded cannon. Now, if you are equal to the work, and will follow, I will make a push; for I long to get down into that camp, if it be only to scatter some Mingo dogs that I see lurking in the skirts of yonder thicket of birch."**

**"We are equal,"** declared _Cora_ , firmly: **"on such an errand we will follow to any danger."**

I smiled slightly and there was none who could fault me for the slip of my usual gravity, for the night had yet to lift its dark fingers from the woods.

**"I would I had a thousand men, of brawny limbs and quick eyes, that feared death as little as you! I'd send them jabbering Frenchers back into their den again, afore the week was ended, howling like so many fettered hounds or hungry wolves. But stir,"** Hawkeye added, turning from the Dark-hair to the rest of the party, **"the fog comes rolling down so fast, we shall have but just the time to meet it on the plain, and use it as a cover. Remember, if any accident should befall me, to keep the air blowing on your left cheeks—or rather, follow the Mohicans; they'd scent their way, be it in day or be it at night."**

I shuddered inwardly, fog was a concern that I had overlooked. The chances of our arrival dropped dangerously. The direction Hawkeye took soon brought us to the level of the plain, nearly opposite to a sally-port in the western curtain of the fort.

When we paused to allow the heavy mists to settle, my father and I stole out of the woods and a surveyed our surroundings. To my dismay I found that a picket had been posted directly in our path, and both Mingos and whites together roamed the woods around us. If we bent the line of our march we would lose our way entirely.

We returned as silently as we had left and with as few words as possible, informed Hawkeye of the predicament. He was still standing contemplating the problem when a canon-ball entered the thicket in which we sheltered. It struck the body of a sapling violently, and rebounded to the earth. But even with that loud commotion so near, I spared it only a glance as a plan formed within my mind. "The ball comes from the Fort and the furrow that it leaves is straight. If we can find it then our path will be easy Hawkeye."

**"It may be so, lad,"** he muttered when I had had my say; **"for desperate fevers are not to be treated like a toothache. Come, then, the fog is shutting in."**

**"Stop!"** cried the major; **"First explain your expectations."**

**"'Tis soon done, and a small hope it is; but it is better than nothing. This shot that you see,"** Hawkeye explained, kicking the iron orb with his boot, **"has plowed the 'arth in its road from the fort, and we shall hunt for the furrow it has made, when all other signs may fail. No more words, but follow, or the fog may leave us in the middle of our path, a mark for both armies to shoot at."**

* * *

We made our way down the ridge, but as I had feared we stumbled upon a French scout. After some conversation between the man and the major, the fog was stirred by the explosions of many muskets. Our party ran blindly for a few yards before Hawkeye called a halt, and we stood amidst the chaos of the pale-face's war.

My eyes sought the person of _Cora_ , and when I found her I relaxed slightly. She hung upon the major's arm with an air of calm that amazed me. Her sister on the other hand was tense and she shuddered like a leaf in the wind. Reluctantly I tore my attention from _Cora's_ face and listened while the major explained the meaning of the words we had heard to Hawkeye.

**"Let us deliver our fire,"** Hawkeye said when the man had finished; **"they will believe it a sortie, and give way, or they will wait for reinforcements."**

The scheme failed in its effect, and the instant the French heard our pieces, it seemed as if the plain was alive with men. Muskets rattled along the plain's whole extent, from the shores of the lake to the farthest boundary of the woods. Death to me seemed imminent if we could not find the canon furrow. Chingachgook and Hawkeye had lost their way during the rush, and I was no better in that regard. In my desperation I broke away from the group and searched the ground for the path that would bring _Cora_ to safety.

It seemed to me that hours past before I lit upon the furrow, but it could only have been minutes. I called out to my companions and they soon surrounded me. I felt a strong hand grip my shoulder and I knew that my father was proud. With a renewed hope I followed my friend as he led the party through the cries and clamor of the plain.

Suddenly, a strong glare of light flashed through the mist, the fog rolled upwards in thick wreaths, and several cannon boomed across the plain. The roar was thrown heavily back from the bellowing echoes of the mountain and it repeated again and again, softening at each repetition.

**"'Tis from the fort!"** exclaimed Hawkeye, turning in his tracks; **"And we, like stricken fools, were rushing to the woods, under the very knives of the Maquas."**

We turned and began the journey back the way we had come. As we ran I came abreast to _Cora_ she stumbled and with out hesitation, I took her hand to assist her. She gripped the limb tightly, and if at the moment, the rest of her friends were to be cut down, I could have lifted her up in my arms and carried her the whole distance to the fort without missing a step and still have had the strength to go into battle after.

**"Stand firm, and be ready, my gallant 60ths!"** suddenly exclaimed a voice above us, and I realized how far we had come; **"Wait to see the enemy,—fire low, and sweep the glacis."**

I stoped suddenly and pulled Cora to my chest as I realized our fate. We were to be cut down in the dark, killed by the very men we had fought so hard to reach. There was naught that I could do, but hold her to me as death came, perhaps my dead body would shield her from serious injury and she would be able to enter the fort in the morning.

_Cora_ had at first struggled in my embrace but she seemed to suddenly understand its meaning, for she stilled and lay her head against my breast, her hands clutching my tunic. Instinctively my arms tightened around her slim waist and l let my proud head rest against her's. Reverently I memorized the feel of her skin against mine as we stood there. At least I would die with her so close to me.

**"Father; father!"** exclaimed a piercing cry from my left, but neither I nor _Cora_ turned; **"It is I! Alice! Thy own Elsie! Spare, O save your daughters!"**

**"Hold!"** shouted the former speaker, **"'Tis she! God has restored me my children! Throw open the sally-port; to the field, 60ths, to the field; pull not a trigger, lest ye kill my lambs! Drive off these dogs of France with your steel."**

With the knowledge that she was safe, I released her from my arms. The Dark-hair pulled away from me slowly but held out a hand to me. A gesture a gratitude and friendship. I enfolded it within my own, and for a moment we stood together silently. But only for a moment.

The port-sally opened with a creak and out rushed a man into our midst. I stood to one side as he folded the girls to his bosom. **"For this I thank thee, Lord! Let danger come as it will, thy servant is now prepared!"**

With one last glance to the Dark-hair's smiling face, I turned and leapt into the surrounding darkness.

Behind me, I knew my father followed.

Together we traversed the plain and melted into the forest.

Six Frenchmen and three Hurons lay dead in our wake, but we did not stop our retreat till we had gained the safety of the hills.

Hawkeye would know to search for us there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this last part never happened in the book, but I always wondered where the Mohicans went during the time in which the sisters and Duncan were at the fort. We know Hawkeye was captured by the French, but there is no mention of Chingachgook and Uncas till after the massacre.


	9. Massacre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set approximately a week after the girls arrive at the fort, in as close correspondence with the book as possible. This chapter is a lot shorter than the others and it is more of a filler. The Last of the Mohicans does not focus on what happened during this time with the Mohicans, so all of this is me.

Two days past before Hawkeye came for us, and with as few words as possible, he informed us that the fort had fallen. He lamented quietly that he had not an army of his own to drive out the French, but only his passing remark that he had seen Magua while he had been a prisoner of Montcalm held my attention.

I had turned to him and immediately commenced to relate to him all that Magua was capable of. He listened with an air of patience and then asked me why I cared so deeply for the fate of a pale-faced woman.

I answered with disdain coloring my voice; "Tell me, why would you risk your life for me or for my father?"

Hawkeye studied my face for a long moment be for returning softly, "For the love that a man has for his brother." Rising from his place by the fire he continued, "Aye, I see your point Uncas. We shall return and guide those pretty feet to the settlements. Though if you think you can stay, you are a fool."

"I am no fool."

* * *

I stood at the edge of a thicket staring out over the plain. No fog covered it now, and the winding column of women and children were clearly visible. The opposing armies seemed at peace, and I hoped that my fears had been without foundation, but as the women passed under the standard of France, a commotion broke out between them and the Hurons standing about.

Anxiously I watched the exchange as closely as was possible from so great a distance. But even my sharp eyes could not desern the object of the conflict. Then the fatal and appalling warwhoop broke the relative peace of the morning. I started at the well known cry, and called aloud to my companions, as in answer there arose a yell along the plain, and through the arches of the wood, as I had never heard before. I took one step forward, and then I was sprinting across the grasses, my tomahawk in my one hand my long knife in the other. Behind me my father glided like a snake and with him came Hawkeye.

Before my eyes, more than two thousand raving Hurons broke from the forest, and threw themselves across the plain with instinctive alacrity. With the pride of a thousand generations I raised my voice in answer to the challenge. My cry mingling with that of Chingachgook's.

Death was everywhere around me, and in its most terrific and disgusting aspects. The resistance of the soldiers only served to inflame the murderers, who inflicted their furious blows long after their victims were beyond the power of their resentment. The flow of blood might be likened to the outbreaking of a torrent; and, as the Hurons became heated and maddened by the sight, many among them even kneeled to the earth, and drank freely of the crimson tide.

With my father and his brother, I fought. No man who stood against us that day lived to tell the tale, and many rushed upon me only to turn and run from my fury, searching for a more cowardly foe.

The trained bodies of the troops threw themselves quickly into solid masses, endeavoring to awe their assailants by the imposing appearance of a military _front—The fools!_ The experiment in some measure succeeded, though far too many suffered their unloaded muskets to be torn from their hands, in the vain hope of appeasing the savages.

At some point in time we found the major and the colonel and stood beside them as they argued with the Frenchmen. I would have liked nothing better than to throw myself once more bodily into the fray, but I was no fool, there was little I could do for her. The chances even of my finding her before I was cut down by friendly fire were to slim.

So the cruel work went unchecked. On every side the captured were flying before their relentless persecutors, while the armed columns of the French stood fast. _Cowards! No men were they, but dogs!_ If not for the near presence of so many outside of my family, I would have thrown my dignity to the winds and raved against them in body as well as spirit.

Long into the night the shrieks of the wounded and the yells of their murderers continued, till they gradually grew less frequent. But I was forced to retreat back into the safety of the woods, like a coward. Unconsciously I gripped her moonstone in my hand as I glided in disdainful silence behind the group of pale-faces.


	10. The Bloody Plain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a bit of my own dialogue, but most of it is from the book.  
> Regular lettering is the Delaware language, bold is English, and italics are Uncas's thoughts.

The third day from when the last moans had been heard, and the Mingos had retreated into the wild, was drawing to a close. A harsh wind blew against me, whipping the scalping tuft and eagle feathers that adorned my head to and fro, and pressing my tunic tightly against my chest. In the sky ravens struggled with the gale, landing at random to feast upon the dead flesh that littered to plain.

The sun was yet to set, when I, my father, Hawkeye, the major and the colonel Monro, left the safety of the forest and began picking our way through the dead grasses.

I cautiously preceded the rest of the party; ascending every hillock to reconnoitre, and indicating, by gestures, to my companions, the route I deemed most prudent to pursue. Behind me my father walked on one flank of the party, watching the margin of the woods, with eyes long accustomed to read the smallest sign of danger.

I threw serious but furtive glances at the mangled victims as I stepped lightly across the plain, afraid to exhibit my feelings, and yet too inexperienced and horrified to quell entirely their sudden and powerful influence.

I climbed a small hill near the centre of the plain, I sighted a pile of bodies too closely strewn to be that of soldiers. With a few quick bounds, I had reached the center of the plain. For the briefest moment I observed the dead women in silence, then I raised a cry that drew my companions to the spot.

Monro and the major flew towards the festering heap, endeavoring, to discover whether any vestiges of those they sought were to be seen among the tattered and many-colored garments. I knew that they would not find her here, nor would they see the light haired one, but it was not my place to tell them.

Eyeing the sad spectacle with an angry expression, Hawkeye said, **"I have been on many a shocking field, and have followed a trail of blood for many miles, but never have I found the hand of the devil so plain as it is here to be seen! Revenge is an Indian feeling, and all who know me know that there is no cross in my veins; but this much will I say—here, in the face of heaven, and with the power of the Lord so manifest in this howling wilderness,—that should these Frenchers ever trust themselves again within the range of a ragged bullet, there is one rifle shall play its part, so long as flint will fire or powder burn! I leave the tomahawk and knife to such as have a natural gift to use them.** What say you, Chingachgook," he added in Delaware; "shall the Hurons boast of this to their women when the deep snows come?"

A gleam of resentment flashed across my father's dark lineaments. He loosened his knife in its sheath; and then turning calmly from the sight, his countenance settled into a repose as deep as if he never knew the instigation of passion. I turned my strained face away from my companions, unable to stand the sight of my father's feigned calm and the free sorrow of the pale-faces, both of which I could never hope to practice.

 **"Montcalm! Montcalm!"** continued Hawkeye; **"they say a time must come, when all the deeds done in the flesh will be seen at a single look; and that by eyes cleared from mortal infirmities. Woe betide the wretch who is born to behold this plain, with the judgment hanging about his soul! Ha—as I am a man of white blood, yonder lies a redskin, without the hair of his head where nature rooted it! Look to him, Delaware; it may be one of your missing people; and he should have burial like a stout warrior. I see it in your eye, Sagamore: a Huron pays for this, afore the fall winds have blown away the scent of the blood!"**

Chingachgook approached the mutilated form, and turning it over, he found the distinguishing marks of one of the six allied tribes, who, while they fought in the English ranks, were so deadly hostile to our people. Spurning the loathsome object with his foot, he turned from it.

 **"Nothing but vast wisdom and unlimited power should dare to sweep off men in multitudes,"** he added; **"for it is only the one that can know the necessity of the judgment; and what is there, short of the other, that can replace the creatures of the Lord? I hold it a sin to kill the second buck afore the first is eaten, unless a march in the front, or an ambushment, be contemplated. It is a different matter with a few warriors in open and rugged fight, for 'tis their gift to die with the rifle..."**

I blocked out the talk around me and strained my sharp gaze to catch any sign of _Cora_. A rapid flutter on a bush caught my eye.

"Hugh!" I exclaimed, rising to my toes, and gazing intently in my front, frightening the ravens around me to some other prey, by the sound and the action.

 **"What is it, boy?"** whispered the scout, lowering his tall form into a crouching attitude, like a panther about to take his leap; **"God send it be a tardy Frencher, skulking for plunder. I do believe Killdeer would take an uncommon range to-day!"**

I, without making any reply, bounded away from the spot, and in the next instant I tore a fragment of _Cora's_ green riding-veil from a bush. The movement, the exhibition, and the cry, which again burst from my lips, instantly drew the whole party about me.

 **"My child!"** Cried the Colonel, speaking wildly **"Give me my child!"**

I studied the older man for a long moment. This was the man who had sired her, the Dark-hair, this was the man who had cared for her in her childhood. And this was the man to whom I must return her when she ceased to roam my domain. When I at last opened my mouth, the words that came were an oath built on selfless love; **"Uncas will try."**

He seemed not to hear me, as he seized the piece of gauze from my fingers, and crushed it in his hand, while his eyes fearfully roamed among the bushes.

 **"Here are no dead,"** said the Major; **"the storm seems not to have passed this way."**

 **"That's manifest; and clearer than the heavens above our heads,"** returned Hawkeye undisturbed; **"but either she, or they that have robbed her, have passed the bush; for I remember the rag she wore to hide a face that all did love to look upon. Uncas, you are right; the dark-hair has been here, and she has fled like a frightened fawn, to the wood; none who could fly would remain to be murdered. Let us search for the marks she left; for to Indian eyes, I sometimes think even a humming-bird leaves his trail in the air."**

I darted away at the suggestion, and he had hardly finished speaking, ere I raised a cry of success from the margin of the forest, as I found another portion of the veil fluttering on the lower branch of a beech.

As the rest moved quickly to my side, I caught the tail end of Hawkeye's speech, **"...here are the Mohicans and I on one end of the trail, and, rely on it, we find the other, though they should be a hundred leagues asunder! Gently, gently, Uncas, you are as impatient as a man in the settlements; you forget that light feet leave but faint marks!"**

"Hugh!" My father exclaimed, he had been occupied in examining an opening that had been made through the low underbrush, but he now stood erect, as he pointed downwards,

 **"Here is the palpable impression of the footstep of a man,"** cried the major, bending over the indicated spot; **"he has trod in the margin of this pool, and the mark cannot be mistaken. They are captives."**

 **"Better so than left to starve in the wilderness,"** returned my friend; **"and they will leave a wider trail. I would wager fifty beaver skins against as many flints, that the Mohicans and I enter their wigwams within the month! Stoop to it, Uncas, and try what you can make of the moccasin; for moccasin it plainly is, and no shoe."**

I bent eagerly over the track, and after removing the scattered leaves from around the place, I examined it with much of that sort of scrutiny that Hawkeye did his powder. The impression was heavy and wide, made by a moccasin. But as I studied it, I noticed the squarish patch at the heel, the same patch that adorned the moccasin of Le Renard Subtil. My face contorted with righteous anger for a moment. _Must he take her yet again? Must he insult her with his proposals? Would that I could have hunted him that afternoon in the clearing upon the hill._ At length I arose from my knees, satisfied with the result of my examination, and with a steady expression that no longer betrayed my raging emotions.

 **"Well, boy,"** demanded Hawkeye, **"what does it say? Can you make anything of the tell-tale?"**

 **"Le Renard Subtil!"** I pronounced.

**"Ha! that rampaging devil again! There never will be an end of his loping, till 'Killdeer' has said a friendly word to him."**

The Major expressed his doubt to my skills saying,—

**"One moccasin is so much like another, it is probable there is some mistake."**

But I understood the hope, if I was wrong, then perhaps Cora would be safer.

 **"One moccasin like another! you may as well say that one foot is like another; though we all know that some are long, and others short; some broad, and others narrow; some with high, and some with low insteps; some in-toed, and some out. One moccasin is no more like another than one book is like another; though they who can read in one are seldom able to tell the marks of the other. Which is all ordered for the best, giving to every man his natural advantages. Let me get down to it, Uncas; neither book nor moccasin is the worse for having two opinions, instead of one."** He stooped to the task, and instantly added, **"You are right, boy; here is the patch we saw so often in the other chase. And the fellow will drink when he can get an opportunity: your drinking Indian always learns to walk with a wider toe than the natural savage, it being the gift of a drunkard to straddle, whether of white or red skin. 'Tis just the length and breadth too! look at it, Sagamore: you measured the prints more than once, when we hunted the varmints from Glenn's to the health-springs."**

Chingachgook complied; and after finishing his short examination, he arose, and with a quiet demeanor, he merely pronounced the word—

"Magua!"

My heart sank. I had known the truth when I had studied the print, but I had desperately desired that my seniors would prove my observations wrong, for her sake.

**"Ay, 'tis a settled thing; here then have passed the dark-hair and Magua."**

**"And not Alice?"** demanded the Major.

 **"Of her we have not yet seen the signs,"** returned the scout, looking closely around at the trees, the bushes, and the ground. **"What have we there? Uncas, bring hither the thing you see dangling from yonder thorn-bush."**

My head snapped up, and catching sight of the thing, retrieved it for my friend. _Oh, that we were alone, we could then go about this business easily and in silence._ Hawkeye held it on high, and laughed in his silent but heartfelt manner as he realized what the object which he grasped was.

 **"'Tis the tooting we'pon of the singer! Now we shall have a trail a priest might travel,"** he said. **"Uncas, look for the marks of a shoe that is long enough to uphold six feet two of tottering human flesh. I begin to have some hopes of the fellow, since he has given up squalling to follow some better trade."**

Immediately I slipped away and, with my eyes steadfastly on the ground, made a thorough survey of the ground. My eyes raked each inch of dirt and leaves carefully.

 **"Well, boy, any signs of such a foundation?"** Hawkeye asked as he joined me. I shook my head negatively.

 **"Here is something like the footstep of one who has worn a shoe; can it be that of our friend?"** The Major called. I glance momentarily in his direction, the print he had found belonged to _Cora_. I had seen it earlier in my search but had not mentioned it to any other than my father, who had nodded in assent.

 **"Touch the leaves lightly, or you'll disconcert the formation. That! That is the print of a foot, but 'tis the Dark-hair's; and small it is, too, for one of such a noble height and grand appearance. The singer would cover it with his heel."** Explained Hawkeye to the inexperienced Englishman.

 **"Where! Let me look on the footsteps of my child,"** said Monro, shoving the bushes aside, and bending over the nearly obliterated impression. Though the tread, which had left the mark, had been light and rapid, I knew it was still plainly visible.

**"There is no woman in this wilderness could leave such a print as that, but the dark-hair or her sister. We know that the first has been here, but where are the signs of the other? Let us push deeper on the trail, and if nothing offers, we must go back to the plain and strike another scent. Move on, Uncas, and keep your eyes on the dried leaves. I will watch the bushes, while your father shall run with a low nose to the ground. Move on, friends; the sun is getting behind the hills."**

Before our party had proceeded many rods, my father stoped and gestured to the ground. I immediately bounded to his side and inspected the mark.

Chingachgook turned his unreadable face to mine as he squatted beside the many, jumbled hoof prints. "It is the one-sided horses."

"They will ride quickly, with so many others how can we follow?"

 **"They have found the little foot!"** exclaimed the scout from behind. But when he saw the jumbled mass he instantly changed his mind. **"What have we here? An ambushment has been planted in the spot?"** He asked as he came up be and lean over my shoulder. **"No, by the truest rifle on the frontiers, here have been them one-sided horses again! Now the whole secret is out, and all is plain as the north star at midnight. Yes, here they have mounted. There the beasts have been bound to a sapling, in waiting; and yonder runs the broad path away to the north, in full sweep for the Canadas."**

As he was still speaking I moved away, unable to still my anxious limbs. A glint in the dirt caught my eye and I picked it up. A gold cross upon a broken golden chain. I stand slowly, wracking my memory for any recollection of the Light-hair ever wearing this.

 **"But still there are no signs of Alice—of the younger Miss Munro,"** said the major.

**"Unless the shining bauble Uncas has just lifted from the ground should prove one. Pass it this way, lad, that we may look at it."**

I opened my hand and held it out to him, but a moment after all had seen it, the major seized it from me; and as he proclaimed that it did indeed belong to the girl, it vanished from my eyes.

 **"So much the more reason why we should not delay our march,"** said the major; **"let us proceed."**

**"Young blood and hot blood, they say, are much the same thing. We are not about to start on a squirrel hunt, or to drive a deer into the Horican, but to outlie for days and nights, and to stretch across a wilderness where the feet of men seldom go, and where no bookish knowledge would carry you through harmless. An Indian never starts on such an expedition without smoking over his council-fire; and though a man of white blood, I honor their customs in this particular, seeing that they are deliberate and wise. We will, therefore, go back, and light our fire to-night in the ruins of the old fort, and in the morning we shall be fresh, and ready to undertake our work like men, and not like babbling women or eager boys."**


	11. Oneida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  
> Love never ends. 1Cor. 13:4-8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought that this chapter would be so hard. I just came up blank when I got to the parts where the Mohicans and Hawkeye were arguing and the part where Chingackgook and Uncas were talking alone. That is why Frozen 2 somehow ended up in it. (I changed out the word 'magic' for 'glory') If any of you have suggestions on how I could make this chapter better, feel free to speak up. Frozen can go, but I need something to take its place ;)

I was staring at the flickering flames in silence, trying to remember my mother's voice. So many winters had past since I had thought of her, but Cora had brought her to mind. Flower of the Grasses had been quite, and loving, but she had also been a proud, strong willed woman. She had died because she would not make way for a Frenchman and his horse. Even now, seven winters later, I still remembered the look of heartbreak that had marred my father's face as he gazed at her broken body. He had killed the Frenchman and his scalp hung prominently at his waist.

An owl moaned near me and I started in surprise. I rose to my feet silently and looked towards the black mounds, seeking the place from whence the sounds proceeded. Hawkeye's call was repeated, and I followed the sound to its source upon the ramparts.

When I had drawn near, Hawkeye explained his wishes in a very few words, and with a slight frown I threw myself flat on the turf. For a moment I remained motionless, then I rose slowly on my elbows and began to inch forward.

Silently I wended my way towards the edge of the carnage. Through the darkness I saw the man crouched with his rifle upon his shoulder. Fearing for my companions lives, I hurled myself at the foe, as at the same time he touched a spark to his powder. The weapon cracked loudly in my ears and I fell to the ground with my enemy beneath me. I held him only for a moment though, for before I could draw my knife, he had slipped like an eel from my grasp.

He fled from me to the lakeshore, perhaps in hopes of making off in a boat, but it was a mistake, for his heavy, mud sucking strides led me to him. A cold smile flitted across my lips as I grasped him and taciturnly slipped my long knife around his head. I wrenched his scalp from him and thrust him from me into the knee deep water. As I turned away, I touched a spark to the powder of my rifle, the warrior was dead.

* * *

I glided into the circle, and seated myself at the fire, with the same appearance of indifference as was maintained by my father.

 **"What has become of our enemy, Uncas?"** demanded the Major after some time had passed, **"we heard your rifle, and hoped you had not fired in vain."**

In reply I removed a fold of my hunting-shirt, and quietly exposed the fatal tuft of hair, which I bore as the symbol of my victory. My father laid his hand on the scalp, and considered it for a moment with deep attention. Then dropping it, with disgust depicted in his strong features, he exclaimed, **"Oneida!"**

 **"Oneida!"** repeated Hawkeye, advancing with uncommon earnestness to regard the bloody badge. **"By the Lord, if the Oneidas are outlying upon the trail, we shall be flanked by devils on every side of us! Now, to white eyes there is no difference between this bit of skin and that of any other Indian, and yet the Sagamore declares it came from the poll of a Mingo; nay, he even names the tribe of the poor devil with as much ease as if the scalp was the leaf of a book, and each hair a letter. What right have Christian whites to boast of their learning, when a savage can read a language that would prove too much for the wisest of them all! What say you, lad; of what people was the knave?"**

I raised my eyes to my mentor's face, and answered softly, **"Oneida."**

**"Oneida, again! when one Indian makes a declaration it is commonly true; but when he is supported by his people, set it down as gospel!"**

**"The poor fellow has mistaken us for French,"** said the Major; **"or he would not have attempted the life of a friend."**

I directed my gaze into the dancing tongues of flame and popping coals; Open Hand was naive if he believed that an Oneida would not kill a Mohican without a second thought.

 **"He mistake a Mohican in his paint for a Huron! You would be as likely to mistake the white-coated grenadiers of Montcalm for the scarlet jackets of the 'Royal Americans',"** returned the Hawkeye. **"No, no, the serpent knew his errand; nor was there any great mistake in the matter, for there is but little love atween a Delaware and a Mingo, let their tribes go out to fight for whom they may, in a white quarrel. For that matter, though the Oneidas do serve his sacred majesty, who is my own sovereign lord and master, I should not have deliberated long about letting off 'Killdeer' at the imp myself, had luck thrown him in my way."**

Open Hand stared at him. **"That would have been an abuse of our treaties, and unworthy of your character."**

 **"When a man consorts much with a people,"** insisted Hawkeye, **"if they are honest and he no knave, love will grow up atwixt them. It is true that white cunning has managed to throw the tribes into great confusion as respects friends and enemies; so that the Hurons and the Oneidas, who speak the same tongue, or what may be called the same, take each other's scalps, and the Delawares are divided among themselves; a few hanging about their great council-fire on their own river, and fighting on the same side with the Mingos, while the greater part are in the Canadas, out of natural enmity to the Maquas—thus throwing everything into disorder, and destroying all the harmony of warfare. Yet a red natur' is not likely to alter with every shift of policy; so that the love atwixt a Mohican and a Mingo is much like the regard between a white man and a serpent."**

**"I regret to hear it; for I had believed those natives who dwelt within our boundaries had found us too just and liberal, not to identify themselves fully with our quarrels."**

**"Why, I believe it is natur' to give a preference to one's own quarrels before those of strangers. Now, for myself, I do love justice; and therefore I will not say I hate a Mingo, for that may be unsuitable to my color and my religion, though I will just repeat, it may have been owing to the night that 'Killdeer' had no hand in the death of this skulking Oneida."**

* * *

Chingachgook replenished the fire as the moon appeared, and the flames leapt towards the stars. Solemnly my father, Hawkeye, and myself took positions within the curl of its smoke. After a short pause, Chingachgook lighted a pipe and commenced smoking. When he had inhaled enough of the fragrance of the soothing weed, he passed it to Hawkeye, then he to me. In this manner the pipe had made its rounds several times in silence, before either my father or Hawkeye opened their lips.

Then my father spoke.

"Magua has taken horses and will travel quickly. He bears with him the two pale-faced women. One with hair like the sun at noon day with eyes like the clear sky, and the second, a dark eyed maiden whose countenance does not waver in the face of danger and whose hair falls around her like that of an Indian. The singer follows with them."

"Yea, though I would not wonder if the serpent shot the man before he had traveled ten leagues. There are canoes on the shore, 'twould be the best way to travel if we are to reach them before the snows."

But my father returned, "The trail lies upon the land, Hawkeye, my brother."

"The canoe is swiftest."

"Upon the ground, and under the trees there is game; in the water there is nothing but the fishes. No skill with the rifle will catch you one of those creatures." My father stated almost indifferently.

Turning to me for support, Hawkeye asked, "Tell me Uncas, what do you say, the land or the lake?"

"The trail, is long, but it lies under the trees of the forest, by following the tracks left by the animals, we will know the moment that they turn either to the left or the right." I answered gravely.

Finding no help from me he turned back to my father and tried vainly to convince him of the virtues of the water. The contest gradually grew warmer, until my feelings, and those of my elders, began to be somewhat enlisted in the debate. Hawkeye still stubbornly insisted that we go by water, but he gave few facts to prove his case. He was fast losing ground, and the point was about to be decided against him, when he arose to his feet, and shaking off his apathy, he suddenly assumed the manner of an Indian.

Elevating his arm, Hawkeye pointed out the track of the sun, repeating the gesture for every day that was necessary to accomplish their object. Then he delineated a long and painful path, amid rocks and water-courses. The age and weakness of the slumbering Colonel were indicated by signs too palpable to be mistaken. Hawkeye extended his palm, and mentioned the Major by appellation of the "Open Hand," and showed with his words, as well as his actions, how the man would only slow us further.

In the water, we would have need of strength, but in the woods silence and discretion, two things in which the Open Hand and Monro were not proficient, were necessary. Then came a representation of the light and graceful movements of a canoe, set in forcible contrast to the tottering steps of one enfeebled and tired. Hawkeye concluded by pointing to the scalp of the Oneida, and urging the necessity of our speedy departure, and in a manner that would leave no trail.

My father and I listened gravely. He had brought up a problem that I had not yet recognized and solved it easily. With resignation I acknowledged the truth of his words with a simple, "It is so."

Chingachgook was not far behind. Seeing that he had accomplished his goal, Hawkeye very composedly stretched his tall frame before the dying embers, and closed his eyes in sleep.

My father and I, seized the moment of peaceful silence, away from all and any who would interrupt, to devote some attention to ourselves. Casting off, at once, the grave and austere demeanor of a warrior, my father commenced speaking to me.

"Your eyes are bright with joy and sorrow, with pain and patience."

"My eyes betray my heart," I answered simply.

He studied me for a long moment before his face softened and a rare smile lit up his face. "You are a man." He stated softly.

I acknowledged his words with a soft, "I am."

"You love her, my son."

"As you loved Flower of the Grasses."

A look of longing shadowed over my fathers face as he answered, "She was a good wife."

"And she is now preparing a lodge for you in the happy hunting grounds, someday you will meet her again."

"Aye, the Dark-hair reminds me of her. She is stubborn like your mother."

"She would never bow before Magua if she were alone, but for her sister she would die."

"Tell me," my father asked, "do you remember the song your mother sang?"

"Yes," I laugh softly. Then, almost imperceptibly, I begin to sing:

"Where the north wind meets the sea  
There's a river full of memory.  
Sleep, my darling, safe and sound  
For in this river all is found.

In her waters, deep and true  
Lay the answers and a path for you.  
Dive down deep into her sound  
But not too far or you'll be drowned

Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear  
And in her song, all glory flows  
But can you brave what you most fear?  
Can you face what the river knows?

Where the north wind meets the sea  
There's a mother full of memory  
Come, my darling, homeward bound  
When all is lost, then all is found."

My father smiled as memories dredged up by the tune washed over him.

After an hour had passed in the indulgence of our better feelings, Chingachgook abruptly announced his desire to sleep by wrapping his head in his blanket, and stretching his form on the earth. My merriment instantly ceased; and carefully raking the coals in such a manner that they would impart their warmth to my father's feet, I sought my own rest among the ruins of the fort.

Sleep came slowly, for my mind was racing hither and thither, imagining the torture she would be enduring as she was forced to travel with a man she so hated. But my weary limbs were stubborn and they ignored my busy mind and soon my heavy lids closed, and I fell into a deep sleep.

I would not sleep again till I had seen _Cora_ , of that I was certain.


	12. Lake Chase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, Open Hand is a name that the natives gave Hayward. I didn't make it up. I have also copied a bit from the book here and there, I honestly can't remember but reading over this chapter I do not recognize all of it as my own.

The heavens were still studded with stars, when Hawkeye aroused me. How I had slept so soundly I knew not. I opened my food pouch and consumed my breakfast quickly. Then I stood, and, within a few moments I had made my way, tracelessly, to the lakeshore in search of a canoe. Several barks lined the muddy bank, but my eye was drawn to one on the farthest side. Long and sleek she rested, tilting to one side, half in and half out of the shallows. I ran my hand along her side. Her bows were strong and the bark that coated her, new. She would do.

* * *

My head snapped up as I heard footsteps coming over the ramparts. But I relaxed just as suddenly, for I had heard the voice of my friend, not to mention, that I now recognized Hawkeye's familiar stride. Instinctively my mind translated my mentor's words; **"...something to fear; but with the deer-skin suitably prepared, a man may trust himself, generally, on rocks with safety. Shove in the canoe nigher to the land, Uncas; this sand will take a stamp as easily as the butter of the Jarmans on the Mohawk. Softly, lad, softly; it must not touch the beach, or the knaves will know by what road we have left the place."**

I observed the precaution; and Hawkeye, laying a board from the ruins between the canoe and a boulder, made a sign for the two officers to enter. When this was done, Hawkeye replaced the board carefully, and then nimbly made his way into the light craft.

An instant later I dipped my paddle into the water and the canoe began to slide across the clear, though wind tossed, lake. Several minutes passed in a profound silence before Open Hand demanded, **"What need have we for this stolen and hurried departure?"**

**"If the blood of an Oneida could stain such a sheet of pure water as this we float on,"** Hawkeye answered, **"your two eyes would answer your own question. Have you forgotten the skulking reptile that Uncas slew?"**

**"By no means. But he was said to be alone, and dead men give no cause for fear."**

**"Ay, he was alone in his deviltry! But an Indian whose tribe counts so many warriors, need seldom fear his blood will run, without the death-shriek coming speedily from some of his enemies."**

**"But our presence—the authority of Colonel Munro—would prove a sufficient protection against the anger of our allies, especially in a case where a wretch so well merited his fate. I trust in Heaven you have not deviated a single foot from the direct line of our course, with so slight a reason!"**

**"Do you think the bullet of that varlet's rifle would have turned aside, though his majesty the king had stood in its path?"** returned the stubborn Hawkeye. **"Why did not the grand Frencher, he who is captain-general of the Canadas, bury the tomahawks of the Hurons, if a** **word from a white can work so strongly on the natur' of an Indian?"**

When Hawkeye had finished his speech he fell silent, refusing to answer any other question put to him by the overly curious Major as he paddled. All the while that I had listened, I had directed the canoe over several miles of water.

Just as the day dawned, we entered the narrows of the lake, and stole swiftly and cautiously among the numberless little islands. My arms moved tirelessly with a steady rhythm which propelled the bark forward. 

My father laid aside his paddle; while Hawkeye and I urged the light vessel through crooked and intricate channels, where every foot that they advanced exposed us to the danger of some sudden rising on our progress.

I watched the water warily for rocks, and the moment I heard the light tap of Chingachgook's finger upon the side of the canoe, I ceased paddling.

"Hugh!" I exclaimed, as my eyes detected the barely visible smoke in the mist. A few rods in our front lay another of the low wooded islets, it was from this island that the smoke wafted.

**"What now?"** asked Hawkeye; **"the lake is as smooth as if the winds had never blown, and I can see along its sheet for miles; there is not so much as the black head of a loon dotting the water."**

My father gravely raised his paddle, and pointed in the direction in which his steady look was riveted.

**"I see nothing,"** the major said, **"but land and water; and a lovely scene it is."**

**"Hist!"** interrupted the scout. **"Ay, Sagamore, there is always a reason for what you do. 'Tis but a shade, and yet it is not natural. You see the mist, Major, that is rising above the island; you can't call it a fog, for it is more like a streak of thin cloud—"**

**"It is vapor from the water."**

**"That a child could tell. But what is the edging of blacker smoke that hangs along its lower side, and which you may trace down into the thicket of hazel? 'Tis from a fire; but one that, in my judgment, has been suffered to burn low."**

**"Let us then push for the place, and relieve our doubts,"** suggested the impatient major; **"the party must be small that can lie on such a bit of land."**

**"If you judge of Indian cunning by the rules you find in books, or by white sagacity, they will lead you astray, if not to your death,"** returned Hawkeye, examining the signs of the place with great scrutiny. **"If I may be permitted to speak in this matter, it will be to say, that we have but two things to choose between: the one is, to return, and give up all thoughts of following the Hurons—"**

Every muscle in my body tightened at once. If this party chose that course, I would go off on my own.

**"Never!"** exclaimed Open Hand, in a voice far too loud for our circumstances. But even so, I was grateful to him.

**"Well, well,"** continued Hawkeye; **"I am much of your mind myself; though I thought it becoming my experience to tell the whole. We must then make a push, and if the Indians or Frenchers are in the narrows, run the gauntlet through these toppling mountains. Is there reason in my words, Sagamore?"**

My father made no verbal answer, but dropping his paddle into the water, urged forward the canoe. As he held the office of directing its course, his resolution was sufficiently indicated by the movement. I now plied my paddle vigorously, and in a very few moments we had reached a point whence we from might command an entire view of the northern shore of the island, the side that had hitherto been concealed.

**"There they are, by all the truth of signs,"** whispered Hawkeye; **"two canoes and a smoke. The knaves haven't yet got their eyes out of the mist, or we should hear the accursed whoop. Together, friend! we are leaving them, and are already nearly out of whistle of a bullet."**

The well known crack of a rifle, whose ball came skipping along the placid surface of the strait, and a shrill yell from the island, interrupted his speech, and announced that our presence had been discovered. In another instant I saw several warriors rushing into their canoes, which were soon dancing over the water, in pursuit. I dug my paddle deeper, and my strokes reached farther. Each of the three paddles plied in unison, causing the little bark to spring forward like a creature possessing life and volition.

**"Hold them there, Sagamore,"** ordered Hawkeye, while he still plied his paddle; **"keep them just there. Them Hurons have never a piece in their nation that will execute at this distance; but 'Killdeer' has a barrel on which a man may calculate."**

Then he deliberately laid aside his paddle, and raised his fatal rifle. Several times he brought the piece to his shoulder, only to lower it again and request that I would permit our enemies to approach a little nigher. At length his fastidious eye was satisfied.

But by then, I had glimpsed the rocky shore a little in our front, from whence another war canoe came darting directly across our course.

"Hawkeye!" I cried.

**"What now, lad?"** He demanded, angered at the interruption; **"You saved a Huron from the death-shriek by that word; have you reason for what you do?"**

I pointed out the canoe silently. Grumbling about blasted Iroquois, he laid aside his rifle and resumed paddling while Chingachgook inclined the bows of the canoe a little towards the western shore in order to increase the distance between us and this new enemy.

**"Let us make for the rocks on the main,"** the colonel said, **"and give battle to the savages. God forbid that I, or those attached to me and mine, should ever trust again to the faith of any servant of the Louis's!"**

**"He who wishes to prosper in Indian warfare,"** returned Hawkeye, from behind me, " **must not be too proud to learn from the wit of a native. Lay her more along the land, Sagamore; we are doubling on the varlets, and perhaps they may try to strike our trail on the long calculation."**

Hawkeye was not mistaken; for when the Hurons found their course was likely to throw them behind their chase, they rendered it less direct, until, by gradually bearing more and more obliquely, the two canoes were ere long, gliding on parallel lines, within two hundred yards of each other. It now became entirely a trial of speed. It was, owing to this circumstance, in addition to the necessity of keeping every hand employed at the paddles, that the Hurons had not immediate recourse to their fire-arms.

My arms strained with each stroke, and my back and shoulders begged me to slow my pace, but I continued on. Sweat dampened my tunic, but I could not take the moment's break to remove it.

**"Edge her a little more from the sun, Sagamore,"** cried Hawkeye; **"I see the knaves are sparing a man to the rifle. A single broken bone might lose us our scalps. Edge more from the sun and we will put the island between us."**

A long, low island lay at a little distance before us, and as we closed with it, the chasing canoe was compelled to take the opposite side. The instant we were hid from observation by the bushes, I redoubled my efforts. My shoulders ached and my biceps quivered, but I dug deeper, and continued on. No amount of fatigue would deter me from my purpose.

"You showed knowledge in the shaping of birchen bark, Uncas, when you chose this from among the Huron canoes," said Hawkeye, I knew he was smiling behind me, though more in satisfaction at our superiority in the race, than from that prospect of escape. "The imps have put all their strength again at the paddles, and we are to struggle for our scalps with bits of flattened wood, instead of clouded barrels and true eyes. **A long stroke, and together, friends.** "

**"They are preparing for a shot,"** warned Open Hand; **"and as we are in a line with them, it can scarcely fail."**

**"Get you then into the bottom of the canoe,"** Hawkeye returned indifferently; **"you and the colonel; it will be so much taken from the size of the mark."**

**"It would be but an ill example for the highest in rank to dodge, while the warriors were under fire!"**

**"Lord! Lord! That is now a white man's courage!"** exclaimed the scout; **"and like too many of his notions, not to be maintained by reason. Do you think the Sagamore, or Uncas, or even I, who am a man without a cross, would deliberate about finding a cover in the scrimmage, when an open body would do no good? For what have the Frenchers reared up their Quebec, if fighting is always to be done in the clearings?"**

**"All that you say is very true, my friend,"** replied the major; **"still, our customs must prevent us from doing as you wish."**

A volley from the Hurons interrupted their discourse, and as the bullets whistled about us, I turned, looking back at Open Hand and Colonel Munro. The two pale-faces sat straight and tall, daring the Mingos to do their worst. _Perhaps_ , I thought, _I have misjudged the major._

I heard a sharp clack as a ball struck the light and polished paddle from the hands of the my father, diving it through the air, far in the advance. A shout arose from the Hurons, who seized the opportunity to fire another volley. I pushed deeper, and the wind created by our rush raised goosebumps on my arms. I raised my head up for a moment and gave the war-whoop of the Mohicans. Silence echoed across the lake. Before the Hurons answered with shouts of: 

**"Le Gros Serpent!"**

**"La Longue Carabine!"**

**"Le Cerf Agile!"**

Bullets pattered along the lake, and one even pierced the bark of the little vessel. I did not fear for my life, though the shots resounded across the lake, for the aim of a Huron was rarely better than that of a child. Behind me Hawkeye voiced to my opinion aloud to nobody in particular.

**"The knaves love to hear the sounds of their pieces; but the eye is not to be found among the Mingos that can calculate a true range in a dancing canoe! You see the dumb devils have taken off a man to charge, and by the smallest measurement that can be allowed, we move three feet to their two!"**

The Hurons soon fired again, and I heard a bullet strike the blade of Hawkeye's paddle.

**"That will do,"** he muttered; **"it would not have cut the skin of an infant, much less of men, who, like us, have been blown upon by the heavens in their anger. Now, major, if you will try to use this piece of flattened wood, I'll let 'Killdeer' take a part in the conversation."**

The major took to the paddle in silence and Hawkeye took a swift aim, and fired. The Huron in the bows of the leading canoe had risen with a similar object, but he fell backward, suffering his gun to escape from his hands into the water. At that moment his companions suspended their efforts, and the chasing canoes clustered together, becomeing stationary.

I profited by the interval to regain my breath, and rest my burning arms. As I relaxed, I cast a calm but inquiring glance at my father to learn if he had sustained any injury from the recent fire; for I knew that no cry or exclamation would, in such a moment of necessity, have been permitted to betray it. A few large drops of blood were trickling down my father's shoulder, but, when he perceived that my eyes dwelt long on the sight, he raised some water in his hand and washed it off. With relief I straightened, once more gazing out at the lake before me.

**"Softly, softly, major,"** said the scout, who by this time had reloaded his rifle; **"we are a little too far already for a rifle to put forth its beauties, and you see yonder imps are holding a council. Let them come up within striking distance—my eye may well be trusted in such a matter—and I will trail the varlets the length of the Horican, guaranteeing that not a shot of theirs shall, at the worst, more than break the skin, while 'Killdeer' shall touch the life twice in three times."**

**"We forget our errand,"** returned the diligent major. **"For God's sake let us profit by this advantage, and increase our distance from the enemy."**

I agreed though I didn't say so aloud.

**"Give me my children,"** Munro interrupted hoarsely; **"trifle no longer with a father's agony, but restore me my babes."**

In compliance, Hawkeye relieved the wearied Major and resumed the paddle, which he wielded with sinews that never tired. I and my father seconded his motions, and a very few minutes served to place a long sheet of water between us and our enemies.

The lake now began to expand, and our route lay along a wide reach, that was lined, as before, by high and ragged mountains. But the islands were few, and easily avoided. As safety closed around us, I suffered my strokes to ease and the pace at which we now glided atop the the rippling lake was almost leisurely.

Almost.

Instead of following the western shore, whither our errand led us, my father warily inclined his course more towards those hills behind which Montcalm was known to have led his army into the formidable fortress of Ticonderoga. He maintained this course for hours, until we reached a bay, near the northern end of the lake. Here we drove the canoe high upon the beach, and disembarked.

The moment Hawkeye and the major ascended an adjacent bluff to reconnoiter, I threw off my hunting tunic and entered the ice-cold water. With a genuine laugh, I sank to the bottom of the lake and swam with the fishes. It had been many years since I had had this pleasure. Soon, though, the cold drove me from the lake and I let the wind and sun dry me.

Upon his return, Hawkeye gave me an amused look before commencing to report the results of his observations to us,—

"Several miles behind, the Mingos have lit a smoke signal. They are calling for reinforcements."

"Then we shall create a false trail, and lead the Hurons inland while we take to the water again." Chingachgook declared unconcernedly.

"Have you any other plan, Uncas?" Hawkeye asked me.

"No." I answered.

* * *

After the pale-faces had refreshed themselves, we lifted the canoe from the water, and bore it on our shoulders, proceeding into the wood, and making as broad and obvious a trail as possible. We soon reached a small water-course, which we crossed, and we continued onward until we came to an extensive and naked rock. Here, where our footsteps would be expected to be no longer visible, we retraced our route to the brook, walking backwards, with the utmost care.

We then followed the bed of the little stream to the lake, into which we immediately launched the canoe. For about an hour we paddled before my father signaled that it would be safe to once more to land.

The halt continued until evening fell, during which time my companions slept and ate. The major would have volunteered for the watch if I had not coldly insisted that I wished to.

As the party slept, I fingered _Cora's_ necklace reverently. When I found her I would return it. I leaned back upon the tree before which I sat, _Was she still living?_ I still remembered clearly the events that had transpired in the clearing. _Would she again anger Le Renard Subtil? Would I arrive too late to do anything more than revenge her?_ Upon my wrist my mother's beaded bracelet shone and I absentmindedly traced the complex pattern she had created so many years before.

* * *

We resumed our route, and, favored by the darkness, pushed silently and vigorously towards the western shore. There we again lifted the boat and bore it into the woods where I carefully concealed it under a pile of brush. Then Hawkeye, my father, and myself, assumed our weapons and packs in readiness to proceed.


	13. Tracking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. If anyone noticed...?  
> Bold is English... you know the drill well enough by now.

We had often traversed these mountains and valleys, and I and my companions was quite familiar with all this areas twisting and turnings. The forest rose up over me and the birds called softly to one another; peace and tranquility, those were words to describe this scene, but impatient and restless would have better fit my temperament. I walked behind and to one side of Hawkeye, as he led our group, but I only kept that pace out of deference to my elders. If, perhaps, I had been alone I would have been running swiftly along the soft needles.

After proceeding a few miles more we had left the trails that I was familiar with, and every so often we would pause to examine the trees; nor did my father cross a rivulet without attentively considering the quantity, the velocity, and the color of its waters.

After three days of such travel Hawkeye called a halt and questioned my father on whether he thought that at any point in time we had missed the path. During the conversation I stood a patient and silent listener. If either had asked, I would have immediately pointed out the tracks of the horses that I had noticed. As it was not my place to speak when my elders conversed I kept my mouth shut. At last with the words, "Then we must turn back and hope that the trail upon the plain has not grown too cold" they ended their discussion.

I clenched the muscles of my jaw, in an attempt to preserve my calm expression, as Hawkeye turned to the colonel and the major, saying, **"When I found that the home path of the Hurons ran north, it did not need the judgment of many long years to tell that they would follow the valleys, and keep 'atween the waters of the Hudson and the Horican, until they might strike the springs of the Canada streams, which would lead them into the heart of the country of the Frenchers. Yet here are we, within a short range of the Scaroon, and not a sign of a trail have we crossed! Human natur' is weak, and it is possible we may not have taken the proper scent."**

My feet itched to spring to the start of the trail that ran but a few rods to my left.

 **"Heaven protect us from such an error!"** exclaimed Open Hand. **"Let us retrace our steps, and examine as we go, with keener eyes. Has Uncas no counsel to offer in such a strait?"**

In my surprise, and my eagerness I cast a glance at my father. Chingachgook caught the look, and motioning with his hand, he gave his consent. In that moment, my countenance changed from its grave composure to a gleam of knowledge and joy. Bounding forward like the elk I was named for, I sprang up the side of a little slope, and stood triumphantly over a spot of fresh earth that bore the impressions of several large and iron-shod beasts.

 **"'Tis the trail!"** exclaimed Hawkeye, drawing near; **"The lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for his years."**

 **"See!"** I said, making use of my English as I pointed north and south; **"The Dark-hair has gone towards the frost."**

 **"Hound never ran on a more beautiful scent,"** responded my mentor, dashing forward at once; **"we are favored, greatly favored, and can follow with high noses. Ay, here are both your waddling beasts: this Huron travels like a white general. The fellow is stricken with a judgment, and is mad! Look sharp for wheels, Sagamore,"** he continued, looking back, and laughing in his newly awakened satisfaction; **"we shall soon have the fool journeying in a coach, and that with three of the best pair of eyes on the borders, in his rear."**

My lips twitched as I leapt after him. Behind followed Open Hand and leaning upon him, Monro. Last of all came my father, alert to any and all signs of disturbance. False trails, and sudden turnings were frequent hindrances to our progress, but no Huron could ever hope to bewilder a Mohican, nor was Hawkeye to be fooled so easily by his enemies.

* * *

By mid afternoon we had passed the Scaroon, and were still trekking west. We descended a small knoll to a low bottom, through which a stream gurgled, and unexpectedly came to the place where the party of Le Renard had rested. The remnants of a fire lay scattered about, and the trees bore evident marks of having been browsed by horses. But while the earth was stirred up by many feet, the trail appeared to have abruptly terminated.

For many minutes my father and I searched around for it, only to return back to the dead fire in defeat. Again we circled out. At length I came upon a sign that indicated that the presence of the two horses at least, was quite recent. I circled around for a third time and found them with their saddles broken, and their bridles muddied. Gently I called to them, "Where have your mistresses gone? Why have you been left to range alone?"

Curiously the two beasts edged up to me and when they stood before me I raised a hand to the cheek of the darker of the two. Sorrowfully she bowed her head with a mournful nicker. The other snuffed at my shoulder, lipping the green fringe at the edge of my tunic. I ran my hands over each, righting the tilted saddles and loosening their girth-straps. Then I examined their hooves and carved the dirt from them with my knife. It was a wonder that their iron shoes should still be intact after so many a day in the wild.

"Come, and have hope ye will see her once more," I promised Cora's mount. Lifting their rains over their heads, I lead them back to the group.

 **"What should this mean?"** asked Open Hand, turning pale, when he perceived the two animals on either side of me.

 **"That our march is come to a quick end, and that we are in an enemy's country,"** returned Hawkeye. **"Had the knaves been pressed, and the gentle ones wanted horses to keep up with the party, he might have taken their scalps; but without an enemy at his heels, and with such rugged beasts as these, he would not hurt a hair of their heads. I know your thoughts, and shame be it to our color that you have reason for them; but he who thinks that even a Mingo would ill-treat a woman, unless it be to tomahawk her, knows nothing of Indian natur', or the laws of the woods. No, no; I have heard that the French Indians had come into these hills, to hunt the moose, and we are getting within scent of their camp. Why should they not? The morning and evening guns of Ty may be heard any day among these mountains; for the Frenchers are running a new line atween the provinces of the king and the Canadas. It is true that the horses are here, but the Hurons are gone; let us then hunt for the path by which they departed."**

After this speech Hawkeye motioned us to again fan out and we covered the ground in search of the seemingly nonexistent trail, only, to my deepest disappointment, to gather back around with no more knowledge than at first we started with.

 **"Such cunning is not without its deviltry,"** exclaimed Hawkeye, when he realized that none had been successful. **"We must get down to it, Sagamore, beginning at the spring, and going over the ground by inches. The Huron shall never brag in his tribe that he has a foot which leaves no print."**

Satisfaction filled me as I heard the decision, and inspected my portion, inch by inch. Not a leaf did I leave unturned. The sticks I removed, and the stones I lifted. But there was nought a print that my sharp eyes could discover that did not cut off or become trampled and muddled within the center.

Then I came upon several distinct prints, made by the singer I was sure, and I followed them till they stopped abruptly at the spring. But, on a closer scrutiny, it seemed to me that the earth had been shifted several times. Carefully I raked dirt and leaves across the mud-clouded little rill which ran from the spring, and waited for it to find a new channel. Within moments it was trickling over some previously damp ground that had puzzled me exceedingly when I had first come across it.

As soon as its narrow bed below the dam was dry, I bent over it with keen eyes. The shape of a moccasin was prominently displayed by the mud, but it was not made by Le Renard. No, Le Renard's step was that of an Indian, this was of a white man, the singer in all probability. I raised my head and called to the rest and immediately they surrounded me.

 **"The lad will be an honor to his people,"** swore Hawkeye, as he regarded the tracks with admiration; **"ay, and a thorn in the sides of the Hurons. Yet that is not the footstep of an Indian! The weight is too much on the heel, and the toes are squared, as though one of the French dancers had been in, pigeon-winging his tribe! Run back, Uncas, and bring me the size of the singer's foot. You will find a beautiful print of it just opposite yon rock, agin the hillside."**

I obeyed and after taking the measurements, returned with the buckskin throng held in my hands. I lay it down alongside the print, and as I had suspected, the measurements matched.

"'Tis the singers foot Hawkeye!" I confirmed.

He nodded sagely, **"I can now read the whole of it, as plainly as if I had seen the arts of Le Subtil, the singer, being a man whose gifts lay chiefly in his throat and feet, was made to go first, and the others have trod in his steps, imitating their formation."**

 **"But,"** cried the Major, **"I see no signs of—"**

 **"The gentle ones,"** interrupted Hawkeye; **"the varlet has found a way to carry them, until he supposed he had thrown any followers off the scent. My life on it, we see their pretty little feet again, before many rods go by."**

After a little discussion the horses' saddles were removed and our packs placed on one, while upon the second, Colonel Monro was mounted. We now proceeded, following the course of the rill, and keeping steadfastly to the clear path left by those we followed. The water soon washed away the makeshift dam I had created, but by watching the ground on either side, I continued on my way knowing that the trail lay beneath the slowly flowing water.

Almost three quarters of a mile was gone by, before the stream rippled close around the base of an large dry rock. Here Chingachgook paused to make sure that the Hurons had not quitted the water.

I glanced around upon the moss, and soon found the impression of Le Renard's foot. Without alerting my companions, I moved silently on in the direction the mark seemed to indicate. With in a few rods I entered a nearby thicket, and struck the trail, as obvious as it had been before we had reached the spring. I put my hands to my lips and imitated the call of the hunting hawk and soon Hawkeye and the rest had made their way to my side as I crouched before it;

 **"Ay, it has been planned with Indian judgment,"** decided Hawkeye; **"and would have blinded white eyes."**

 **"Shall we proceed?" q** ueried the major, softly.

I turned my head for no real reason to Monro and saw that his countenance was one of a weary man. I turned my gaze away just as quickly and focused on the light mark left by the Dark-hair. Monro wanted nothing more than to see his daughters once more and then to quit the country immediately. I turned away, though I had no wish to separate the Dark-hair from her family, I could still feel that wish to keep her within my hunting grounds. If I did not guard myself I would become the fool Hawkeye believed me to be.

 **"'Tis explained!"** cried the delighted Hawkeye, rousing me from my mental wanderings. **"If them varlets have passed a minute, they have spent hours in striving to fabricate a lying end to their trail! Well, I've known them to waste a day in the same manner, to as little purpose. Here we have three pair of moccasins, and two of little feet. It is amazing that any mortal beings can journey on limbs so small! Pass me the thong of buckskin, Uncas, and let me take the length of this foot."** I obeyed silently.

**"By the Lord, it is no longer than a child's and yet the maidens are tall and comely. That Providence is partial in its gifts, for its own wise reasons, the best and most contented of us must allow."**

**"The tender limbs of my daughters are unequal to these hardships,"** said Monro, looking at the light footsteps of his daughters: **"we shall find their fainting forms in this desert."**

 **"Of that there is little cause of fear,"** returned Hawkeye, shaking his head; **"this is a firm and straight, though a light step, and not over long. See, the heel has hardly touched the ground; and there the dark-hair has made a little jump, from root to root. No, no; my knowledge for it, neither of them was nigh fainting, hereaway. Now, the singer was beginning to be foot-sore and leg-weary as is plain by his trail. There, you see, he slipped; here he has travelled wide, and tottered; and there, again, it looks as though he journeyed on snow-shoes. Ay, ay, a man who uses his throat altogether, can hardly give his legs a proper training."**

At the insistence of the major, we tarried a little while for Monro to eat. My other companions took the same liberty, but I, know how little we had, as well as not wishing to partake of the luxury, disdained to touch any.

When the meal was ended, Hawkeye pushed forward with a rapidity which I eagerly imitated. Our route now lay along a shallow dell. As the Hurons had made no further efforts to conceal their footsteps, our progress was no longer delayed by uncertainty.

"I scent the Hurons," Hawkeye informed my father and I; "yonder is open sky, through the tree-tops, and we are getting too nigh their encampment. Sagamore, you will take the hillside, to the right; Uncas will bend along the brook to the left, while I will try the trail. If anything should happen, the call will be three croaks of a crow. I saw one of the birds fanning himself in the air, just beyond the dead oak—another sign that we are touching an encampment."

I nodded in agreement and took to the left at the same instant as my father melted into the woods in the opposite direction.


	14. Ambush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is all me. The book follows Heyward into the Huron village and then there we find out that soon after Heyward left Uncas followed a coward into a trap and da da da. This is how Uncas fell into the trap, and because I love horses I have made Sundancer larger apart of the story. I made that name up because why not? A horse needs a name, especially if that horse is a Noriker. Though technically in the book the horses were Narragansetts who are natural pacers thus they are very comfortable to ride. I just love the looks of the Noriker, even though it is a light draft horse and not a ladies steed, so I have replaced Cora's Narragansett with a Noriker. If you want to see what one looks like, go to: naturepl.com and type in 'Noriker'  
> If you don't want to, then the horse is around 16 hh. or 5.7 feet at the shoulder, coloring is dark red-brown with an almost white-blond-gold mane and tail.
> 
> Enough about horses, enjoy.

After the major had left accompanied by the singer to the Huron village bellow the beaver pond, we continued on in a silence, broken only with the rhythmic clip of the horses hooves. The darkest of the mares, the one whom I had christened Sundancer for the way the fading light that filtered through the leafy canopy sparked when it touched her pale mane, I led behind me as we made our cautious way through the woods. Before me strode Hawkeye and to my left glided my father's upright figure, Monro rode at my heels.

The closer to the encampment of Delawares the faster beat my heart, for there I would find her. Though she would be a prisoner, I had reason to hope that she would be well treated, for a Delaware was an honest man. The only fear I had was that the singer had mistaken the true abode of the Dark-hair.

It was in this frame of mind that I trotted through enemy territory, my eyes flickering to and fro in constant search of a disturbance in the peaceful calm of the woods that might indicate a Mingo hunting party. A soft warm nose nuzzled my shoulder and snuffed at my ear, I gently shoved her head away. In response she rubbed her shoulder against mine. The horse by my side was intelligent and hardy, but I was not to know her exact worth till later that evening.

It was a crow's low cry that first alerted me to my danger, and in instant response to my father's warning, I halted and when Monro had paused as well I took the bridle of his mount, and leaving Sundancer to her own devices, led him a good deal out of our way.

He seemed at first inclined to argue, but after he found that I would not answer him a syllable and that the horse was more inclined to follow me than any direction he gave, he settled himself into an offended silence.

For many rods more I continued, my eyes flitting here and there as I searched out a suitable hiding place. As I topped a small rise, I stoped abruptly in the small thicket that crowned the hill, and tying the animal to a branch, said, **"The Hurons hunt in these woods, if you value your life, do not leave this shelter. I will return."**

Then I turned and retraced my path to where I had left the others. I found my father first, he was high in a tree, pressed against the knotted trunk and I would have passed him by had he not leapt down before me. As it was, I came very near cleaving his skull it two with my tomahawk, so great had been my surprise at seeing him. His response to the near accident was an approving nod, before he inquired, "Where lies the English colonel?"

"In a thicket, straight towards the Canadas." I gestured behind me impatiently.

With a nod and a murmured, "Hawkeye is on the trail of a lone hunter. He waits for you at the tall oak," then my father was gone.

Confidently I turned once more to my task with a long loping stride that effortlessly ate up the ground. All around me shadows were lengthening and I hurdled a fallen log. Ducking under a low hanging branch, I came upon noises that indicated the presence of a hunter and his prey in my near vicinity, but before I could escape, a lone Huron warrior stepped from the trees. His gun that had been a moment before aimed at a handsome young buck, now raised itself to point directly at my chest.

I froze and the buck took his opportunity to bound away to safety. There was no such escape for me. I would die and not even Hawkeye would know until after the deed was done. It was a fitting way for the race of the Mohican sagamores to end, I supposed: alone and without a struggle. Like my ancestors I would be cut down and replaced without a word on my own part. I longed to take the man before me with me when I left this land and my spirit traveled to the next, but my rifle was strapped to my back. It was with a high head and a haughty eye that I faced the Mingo warrior before me. A fierce smile crossed his face as he raised his hand to light the spark...

...And then his expression turned from one of triumph to that of horror. Behind me I heard a trampling of hooves, and I turned with surprise and watched, as out from the trees cantered Sundancer. The last rays of the sun shone upon her mahogany coat and gleamed on her creamy mane. Her high set tail whipped in the wind that her passage had created and she whinnied her displeasure, rearing up and then coming on again. The small courage of the Mingo wilted in the face of the proud beast's fury, and he fled, dropping his weapon as he did so. Sundancer pulled up short beside me with a triumphant neigh and pushed me playfully, but I spared her only a quick pat on her neck, before I followed the cowardly Mingo with a fierce cry.

The trees passed quickly in my peripheral vision, and each bound brought me nearer his fleeing figure. His back was obviously slick with sweat, and I was in the act of stretching out my hand to grasp his shoulder when suddenly I was surrounded. I had been led into the midst of a large hunting party, immediately I swerved away, leaving the coward to his friends. After a moments worth of shock, the members of the group let out an early cry of victory.

My expression darkened, I had often heard that cry, and I had often seen the Huron who had prematurely given it stretched out upon the dirt, his scalp added to the collection at my belt. Now though, I was weary, I had not eaten since the night on the plain, nor had I since then slept, I stood little chance against so large a party. I darted around a tree that stood in my path and continued on. The Mingos followed at my heels, howling their cries as the stretched out their hands to capture me. But I eluded them easily.

As I pulled ahead, I tried to escape deeper into the forest toward the Delaware encampment, but a young warrior headed me off. To avoid his gleaming knife I swerved away. He soon stumbled, unable to keep up his strenuous stride, but he had accomplished his mission and I was herded toward the Huron village like a rabid dog to a pen.


	15. Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Bold is the Huron language. There is no English.  
> It has been so long since I wrote this, there is a good chance that I have copied a little bit from Cooper's book. I can't remember.

From behind me a loud but low signal was given, a signal to the camp of their safe return. I turned my head and glanced back to see that another ran with me. By the pattern drawn upon his face, I knew he was he was a Delaware. In that glance I read his shame and dejection, his chest heaved and he seemed to have little strength left in his legs. I turned my head back around, dodging the last hemlock that stood in my path. My eyes scrutinized the dim clearing, memorizing its breadth and width. Men, women, and children; the aged, the infirm, the active, and the strong, were alike assembled in a large and roiling crowd. Then from behind me a cry arose; high and shrill, drawn out until it equalled the longest and most plaintive wolf howl. My blood froze, as understanding set in. The group I had burst in upon when I had followed the coward had not been a hunting party, but one of war. I skidded to a stop, knowing that none would touch me, and strived to even my breathing.

Behind me the other runner stumbled out and collapsed beside me. He, I knew would not survive the coming trial. But he was one of my nation, so I offered him my hand and when he grasped it, raised him to his feet. Three times more the howl was repeated and three times the man at my side flinched and three times my fury deepened. Behind us the warriors filed from the woods at a much slower pace than before. The leader of the party bore a short pole, on which were suspended four scalps. Within a few moments they had arranged themselves around us quietly.

Then one called out, **"The Delawares have crossed over into our hunting grounds, we have taken their scalps, two we have kept for sport."**

At those words, spoken in the language of the Huron with such pride and ecstasy, every warrior drew his knife, and arranged himself in one of two parallel lines, which formed a lane that extended from me to the village. The squaws too, joined the lines and their children crowded in amongst them all.

The last light of day finally spent itself and for a moment all was darkness, then a flame lit, spread, and blazed up in a crackling frenzy. Another and another sprouted from piles of dry brush, lighting up the fierce landscape. I closed my eyes, I remembered a line from my mother's song: _"But can you brave what you most fear?...When all is lost, then all is found."_

Could I? Could I find a victory here, in my enemies' camp? Or would I succumb to my fatigue when I was but yards from the finish? Could I make it to the post at the end of that lane? Could my muscles endure the strain of such an endeavor? Was I truly the panther of my tribe, the pride of the Wapanachki?

Before I could decide the signal yell was given; my eyes flew open and I bounded from my place with swiftness of a deer. I entered the path of long knives, tomahawks, clubs, and stones, I had known even before I had attempted it, that it would be a reckless strategy. My mind was made up. I turned in my tracks, avoiding the blows directed at my person, and vaulting over the heads of the children, I gained the freedom of the wide open clearing.

The group instantly collapsed and followed after, the youngest and most active of the youths ran but several yards from my heels. I set my sights on the dark forest where I knew Chingachgook and Hawkeye waited. In my desperation I pulled ahead, but my captors threw themselves before me in a writhing mass with the intent to drive me back into their centre. As they curled their line inward I swerved away from a descending club and leapt through a pillar of flame that all had till this point avoided. The heat was almost unbearable for the moments that I was suspended above the fire but the cool grass soothed my warm feet.

Once more I tried to reach the woods, but I was turned by a few of the older and more experienced Hurons. My legs burned and my throat tightened as I drew life giving air into my lungs, breathing was difficult and my chest heaved. I wanted nothing more than to collapse on the turf and rest. Sleep. But to do so would be to spell certain death. Once more I tried the chaotic throng, seeking safety in its blindness. On every side the shrieks of the women pierced the night and the fierce yells of the warriors surrounded me.

Profiting by a momentary opening, I darted from among the warriors, and made a desperate, and final effort to gain the wood. But it was a vain effort and I doubled back again, brushing against the disguised major as I bounded with shaking limbs to the post that stood before the door of the principal lodge.

I grasped the wooden post, and halted. I closed my eyes and bent my head against the support, I had completed the trial I would be safe until they decided whether to set me free or torture me. The latter was more probable.

My breath came thick and hard. Sweat coated my torso, forehead, arms, and my clothes clung to me uncomfortably. A cool breeze whispered through the village cooling the moisture in the cloth on my hunting tunic, I shivered, but even so, I was hot.

All around me women and children crowded, only a scant yard separated me from them. Though my knowledge of the Huron language was scant and random, I understood enough to wish that I did not. There was no term of abuse known to the Hurons that the disappointed women did not lavish upon me and my people. They flouted at my victory, and scoffed that my feet were better than my hands; and said that I merited wings—to this particular insult I would have smiled if I had been alone, for to me it was a complement, my mother had called me a Hawk, though never in Hawkeye's presence—while I knew not the use of an arrow or a knife. They would not have spoken so if they examined the scalps at my waist that besopoke of nine Huron warriors fallen by my hand. The knowledge was enough to allow me to blend my haughty dignity with disdain.

Exasperated by their lack of success they morphed their words into shrill, piercing yells with no meaning at all. I let my eyes shift from the sky to the woods. I ignored all movement around me and tuned out the wails. In the distance I heated the crack of a familiar gun. And then once more the sound fell upon my ears. Killdeer.

"Look you, Delaware!" It took all my restraint not to twitch at the words, spoken in my own dialect. The squaw snapped her fingers in my face; "Your nation is a race of women, and the hoe is better fitted to your hands than the gun. Your squaws are the mothers of deer; but if a bear, or a wild cat, or a serpent were born among you, ye would flee. The Huron girls shall make you petticoats, and we will find you a husband."

A burst of savage laughter arose from the gathering, but I doubted that they understood the meaning of the words. Infuriated, she broke out anew, in a torrent of words that were as unintelligible to me as they were swift. My chest had ceased its heaving and my breath came easier, my limbs no longer burned, and though I would have welcomed sleep, I no longer felt the primal urge to throw myself to the ground.

It was the voice of a boy, not yet a man, that drew me from the recesses of my mind. He boasted of his father's house and his brother's scalps, all the while flourishing his tomahawk. I turned my face towards the light, and looked down on the child with an expression of disgust. The next moment I resumed my quiet and reclining attitude against the post. But the change of posture had permitted me to exchange glances with the amazed eyes of the Open Hand

Just then a Huron warrior forced his way into the exasperated crowd. Motioning the women and children aside with stern gestures, he took me firmly by the arm, and led me towards the door of the council lodge. Thither all the chiefs, and most of the distinguished warriors followed.

I stood stood calm and collected, in the very centre of the lodge, under an opening that admitted the twinkling light of one or two stars.

Without seeming to do so, I allowed my gaze to drift over the men assembled. The hunter whom I had followed sat apart, his form shrinking into a crouching and abject attitude, as if anxious to fill as little space as possible. My disdain for him heightened, and I turned my face away from the revolting sight.

"Delaware." My head turned to the chief who had spoken to me in my own language,

"Delaware, though one of a nation of women, you have proved yourself a man. I would give you food; but he who eats with a Huron should become his friend. Rest in peace till the morning sun, when our last words shall be spoken."

Disdaining his hospitality, I replied in the same tongue, "Seven nights, and as many summer days, have I fasted on the trail of the Hurons, the children of the Lenape know how to travel the path of the just without lingering to eat."

"Two of my young men are in pursuit of your companion," he continued without regarding my words; "when they get back, then will our wise men say to you 'live' or 'die.'"

"Has a Huron no ears?" I cried scornfully; "Twice, since he has been your prisoner, has the Delaware heard a gun that he knows. Your young men will never come back!"

A short pause followed my assertion. Then he retorted, "If the Lenape are so skillful, why is one of their bravest warriors here?"

"He followed in the steps of a flying coward, and fell into a snare. The cunning beaver may be caught."

As I spoke, I pointed my finger toward the solitary Huron hunter. Every eye rolled towards the individual I had indicated, and a low, threatening murmur passed through the crowd. A coward had no place in a tribe. Then there was silence.

The chief arose from his seat, and moving past me, placed himself before the offender. At that moment, the squaw, who had before been so aggravated by my nonchalance, moved into the circle holding a torch, and muttering what I could only assume were curses upon me and my kin.

Approaching me, she brought the blazing brand to my face. I ignored her and maintained my firm and haughty attitude, gazing steadily into the distance, as though my sight could penetrate the wall which impeded my view. Apparently satisfied with her examination, she left me and proceeded to practice the same trying experiment on her cowardly countryman. I did not watch. I cared not what the outcome of his fate was. He was a coward and therefore scum that I would not associate with, even with a look.

The chief spoke then in his own language to the coward, and when he was finished the only sound was that of a man rising to his feet and passing a long-knife into his bosom. Then he fell heavily on his face at my feet.

The squaw gave a loud and plaintive yell, dashed the torch to the earth, burying the lodge in darkness. Then the group spectators glided from the lodge into the night, leaving me with the major and the dead corpse of the hunter.


	16. A Huron's Sentence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regular is Delaware, Bold is English, French, or Wyandot (Huron).

Seeing that the Open Hand intended to stay, or at least was so lost in foreign customs that he did not know where to turn, I stepped to his side and wrapped my fingers about his arm.

 **"The Hurons are dogs."** I whispered, **"The sight of a coward's blood can never make a warrior tremble. The Gray Head and the Sagamore are safe, and the rifle of Hawkeye is not asleep. Go,—Uncas and the Open Hand are now strangers. It is enough."**

In the gloom, I detected his terse nod and then he crossed to the door and was gone. I returned to my place and closed my eyes; sleep would not come, though at least I could feign a semblance of it. A small group of warriors soon entered the lodge again, and bore the dead remains of the coward away.

At some point in the night a guard was posted at the door, but I knew that the man slept and his ears were stopped up to any noise that I might make.

No light penetrated the thatcher roof, but when I slipped the Dark-hair's necklace from my pouch, it shone softly. The cool glow it cast about threw strange, fuzzy shadows on the walls. Tenderly I fastened the thin chain about my neck, and hid the thing under my shirt. The hand-warmed stone rested against the tattoo upon the center of my chest. Thus I passed the night, standing against a pillar, eyes closed, but with a mind that never ceased to wander.

* * *

An hour or so after dawn the men reentered the building and spoke a little amongst themselves. Near the door the major sat, almost unnoticed by his hosts. Another hour or so passed, and the Hurons breakfasted, but no word was spoken to me about my fate. The young men had yet to return.

So many hours without movement had caused my limbs to ache and grow tired. I wished I was free to move, to at least change my position. Another hour past, and they took out their pipes and smoked together, then suddenly one of the chiefs turned to the major and addressed him in the language of the Canadas. Though to me his words were but a meaningless string of sound, the major seemed to understand though, for he answered immediately in the same language. The conversation continued for some time before whatever it was that they spoke of was agreed upon.

A few minutes past after that and several pipes were extinguished before a commotion broke out outside the lodge and soon a tall well built warrior stepped heavily into the room. I recognized him immediately.

Magua.

I turned my gaze away before it could be detected, but I saw in the peripheries of my vision that he seated himself by the major.

At his sudden entrance several pipes were relighted; while he, without speaking, drew his tomahawk from his girdle, and filled the bowl on its head. Ten minutes passed in this manner; and the warriors were enveloped in a cloud of white smoke, when one of the chiefs spoke.

For several minutes they conversed, in their own language, before any word of it was intelligible to me. And then I would not have noticed if not for the mention of my tribe's name for my thoughts had been elsewhere detained as I imagined what havoc I could wreck in this gathering if I but still bore even my long-knife.

 **"The Delawares have been like bears..."** I could not catch the meaning of his next words. But a moment later the words, **"prowling around my village. But who has ever found a Huron asleep?"** were quite intelligible.

 **"The Delawares of the Lakes!"** Magua exclaimed.

**"Not so. ...petticoats of squaws, on their own river. One of them has been passing the tribe."**

**"...young men... scalp?"**

**"His legs were good...his arm...the tomahawk."**

Their discourse ceased, and aside from the occasional muttered word to a friend, all was silence as they puffed on their pipes. Then Magua shook the ashes from his pipe, replaced his tomahawk, tightened his girdle, and rose, casting a glance in my direction. I turned suddenly toward the firelight, meeting my enemy's gaze, allowing him to recognize me for who I was. Near a minute we stood regarding one another steadily, neither he nor I quailing in the least before the fierce gaze we each encountered. The warriors sitting around before me slipped from my notice, I was focused on Magua, and Magua only. Slowly I rose to my full height, a challenge, and my nostrils dilated; but besides that I did not twitch a muscle. Magua lifted his upper lip, exposing his teeth like a wolf in a soundless snarl. But his countenance gradually lost its character of defiance in an expression of ferocious joy, and heaving a breath from the very bottom of his chest, he pronounced aloud—

**"Le Cerf Agile!"**

Slowly I came out of the trance-like state I had been in, and even as the words were still echoing in my ears, as a whole the tenets of the lodge sprang to their feet in shock. They repeated the name once in disbelief and once in triumphant fury. The women and children, who lingered around the entrance, took up the words in an echo, which was succeeded by shrill howl. Then, even while those outside still rejoiced, an embarrassed silence fell within.

My lips twisted, almost unknown to myself, into a victorious and scornful smile. The taunts and insults given before, now, I knew, seemed childish to their givers. Magua turned to me for a long moment and hissed in English, **"Mohican, you die!"**

"The healing waters will never bring the dead Hurons to life," I returned, "the tumbling river washes their bones; their men are squaws; their women owls. Go, call together the Huron dogs, that they may look upon a warrior. My nostrils are offended; they scent the blood of a coward."

For a moment his eyes widened with anger, but he controlled himself and calmly placed his back to me. Dropping the light robe of buckskin from his shoulder, he stretched forth his arm, and commenced speaking to his brothers. He spoke for several minutes, pausing only now and again to let his audience think. Very little of his speech did I understand, but what I did I scorned as beneath me.

**"...Are their souls to enter the land of the just like hungry Iroquois or unmanly Delawares; or shall they meet their friends with arms in their hands and robes on their backs? What will our fathers think the tribes of the Wyandots have become?...Mohican until he staggers under our bounty, and despatch him after my young men. They call...Delaware die."**

When Magua had ended a Mingo brave arose, and whooping, he hurled his tomahawk in my direction. My eyes followed its trajectory, and seeing that his aim had been worse than a child's, I did not dodge. The keen weapon cut the war-plume from my head, and broke through the frail wall behind me, but did not break my skin.I did not let myself even flinch, and I met the man's gaze immovably calm. Then I smiled and muttered, "The Mingos are squaws. They cannot even kill an enemy who stands before them. Their boasts are as empty as Hawkeye's bowl after a meal!"

 **"No!"** cried Magua to his still attentive audience, **"the sun must shine on his shame; the squaws must see his flesh tremble, or our revenge will be like the play of boys. Go! take him where there is silence; let us see if a Delaware can sleep at night, and in the morning die."**

The youth, who had spent the night outside the place guarding me, instantly tied ropes of bark across my arms, and led me from the lodge. It was only as I stood in the opening of the door that I hesitated. Then I turned, and, swept a haughty glance around the circle of enemies. Then I followed submissively.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this gives more people a taste of The Leather Stocking Tales by J.F. Cooper.


End file.
